The Master's Rose
by Brownbug
Summary: <html><head></head>Master/ Time Lady OC: "On the strange planet Mnemosyne, the Master and Tejana begin to realise that what he remembers of the Time War might not have happened that way at all. Someone badly wants him to remember the shocking truth, but there are some things much safer left forgotten. And what does Captain John Hart know about it all? Can he really be trusted?" Fifth in Series.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_**WARNING: This is the fifth instalment in the "One Moment in Time" series, following on from "One Moment in Time", "Portal of Eternity", "So Many Things Should Have Been Different" and "Return to The Valiant". You will DEFINITELY need to read from the beginning to make sense of it all.**_

_**_**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything remotely related to it.**_  
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_**_**Author's Note: OK, after quite a few requests, I've decided to return for another trip on my "Ship of Dreams" - I hope you will join me! As always, I'm a little nervous about starting to post a new story, so any and all reviews would be greatly appreciated, so that I know if I'm on the right track. Big thanks to Omniac for our recent chat - your encouragement has inspired me**_ to start this story!  
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><p><em><strong>Summary: The Master and Tejana have landed on the planet Mnemosyne, a strange, secret place where it's possible for things long ago forgotten to once again be remembered. To the Master's shock, he begins to realise that what he remembers of the Time War might not actually be what happened at all. Someone on Mnemosyne knows the truth. Someone wants the Master to remember. But there are some things that are much, much safer left forgotten...<strong>_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

Tejana didn't want to move, but she knew she was going to have to. She felt completely content, her body lethargic and boneless and absolutely satisfied. She could hear the Master's steady, even breathing in her ear, feel the hard, heated reality of his body curved protectively around hers as he slept beside her. Still floating on the aftermath of mind-melting pleasure, a tiny smile quirked her lips. She wasn't surprised he was tired. She would be exhausted herself, if not for the artron energy still surging through her body from her regeneration. The last couple of hours had certainly been very...physical, to say the least. The Master was nothing if not thorough. There wasn't a place on her new body that he hadn't touched and explored and ruthlessly claimed for his own. She gave an experimental wriggle and winced a little as her bruised muscles protested. He hadn't been at all tender or gentle in his single-minded and determined possession of her. But, caught up in her own overwhelming need, she hadn't expected or wanted anything different from him.

Turning her head on the pillow, she gazed at him almost curiously. He looked so much younger in his sleep – much less like the deadly predator he really was – his eyes closed and his handsome face relaxed, devoid of the harsh, wary alertness that usually characterised it.

Her mind drifted back over everything that had recently happened on _The Valiant_. "The Year That Never Was, That Never Was", as the Doctor had jokingly called it. It was ironic – now that the causal nexus had been restored, that small piece of Time no longer existed. It had been totally re-written, all the horrific events reversed and erased from the memory of nearly everyone involved. And yet, for Tejana, it would always be one of the most significant periods of her life. She would never forget a single thing that had happened. Incredibly, unbelievably, the Master had given her his true name. It was the ultimate commitment any Time Lord could make to another person, an absolute gesture of trust. She now held a part of him that no-one else in the Universe could ever claim, his essence, the key not only to his hearts but to his very soul. She knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved her.

_Or, at least, he loves me as much as he could ever love anyone_.

Tejana felt an unpleasant little shiver of apprehension trickling up her spine. She couldn't help remembering the savage pleasure on the Master's face when he realised that the outline of his hand was still branded on to her ankle, even after she had regenerated, marking her as his forever, no matter what happened. It was an inescapable truth, one she could not ignore, no matter how hard she tried - for the Master, love would always equate to possession. It was his fundamental nature, he didn't understand anything else. Ever since they had lain together in the Matrix, he had made no secret of the fact that he wanted to own her in every way possible. He had told her that there was nowhere in the Universe she could go that he wouldn't find her and bring her back. Going by the things he had whispered in her ear as he made love to her, giving him her true name had only intensified his obsession. When the Master said forever, he literally meant _forever_. Every inch of her, every breath she took, every heartbeat, he demanded it all. And she wasn't sure things would ever be any different between them.

But, as the Doctor had so succinctly pointed out, she had made her choice and there was no turning back. Oh, she didn't regret it, not for a second. As dangerous and unpredictable as the Master was, as impossible as it was to fully trust him, she still loved him unreservedly. In the end, she hadn't really even _had_ a choice. She could never have walked away from him, even if she had wanted to. Even if he would have let her. It was much too late for that. Her need for him was burnt deep into her bones, right to the very marrow. He was in her blood, like an addiction, something she could not live without. Nonetheless, looking at his sleeping face, she couldn't help trembling as she thought about the enormity of what she had done.

_The obvious solution to that is not to think about it then_, she told herself ruefully. _After all, what's done is done._

As if in agreement, her stomach rumbled loudly, immediately taking her mind away from everything else. _Oh gods, she was so hungry!_ In this time-line, which now was the only one that physically counted, she hadn't had anything to eat for at least twenty-four hours. Since then, she had also regenerated, a process which always left her absolutely starving.

Carefully, she began to ease out from under the heavy weight of the Master's arm. He stirred, muttering her name irritably, until she deftly slipped a pillow into the crook of his elbow, which he pulled close before drifting back into a deep sleep. Pleased, Tejana smiled impishly and slid off the edge of the bed. She really hadn't wanted to wake him. As much as she had enjoyed the last few hours, she could do with some time to herself. Regeneration was always a difficult adjustment to make, for her at least, and she hadn't really had a chance to come to terms with it just yet. With a small stab of trepidation, she realised she hadn't even seen her own face. It was a weird, indescribably unsettling sensation, not to have any idea what she currently looked like. Padding across to her wardrobe, she opened the door and looked into the full-length mirror which hung inside. A small, naked, fragile-looking girl looked back at her, an uncombed mass of dark-copper hair falling past her waist in wild-looking waves. With a small frown, she examined her face more closely, noting the wide green eyes and the tiny sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Baring her teeth, she inspected them too, running her tongue over them several times, before pulling some experimental faces at herself in the mirror.

_Could have been worse_, she thought dubiously, trying to look on the bright side. _I definitely looked more dignified before. I suppose it's a bit hard to look dignified when you're so bloody small._

Looking at her body, she figured she was now probably just over five feet tall, with small breasts, a flat stomach, narrow, boyish hips and slender legs. She sighed, somewhat disappointed in her lack of feminine curves. It definitely wasn't what she would have chosen, but she supposed she would get used to it in time. It had taken her a while to get used to her last regeneration too. She shot a quick look over her shoulder at the sleeping figure in the bed. At least the Master hadn't seemed to mind. If anything, he had appeared excited by the apparent fragility of her new form. He was not overly tall himself in his current regeneration – Tejana guessed that the fact that she was now so much smaller than him appealed to his dominant personality.

Reaching into the wardrobe, she sorted swiftly through her clothes, trying to find something that would fit. The process didn't take very long. Her previous self had never been the least bit interested in shopping or fashion. There were several pairs of jeans, some assorted shirts and cotton tops and a couple of jackets – that was pretty much it. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. What had she been thinking? It was definitely time for a style overhaul. In the end, she pulled out the white cotton dress she had worn on the Eye of Orion and put it on. It was much too long now, falling almost to her ankles, but it was better than wearing a pair of jeans that kept slipping down her legs. Grabbing a belt made out of silver links, she cinched it firmly around her small waist, holding the dress in place. The result was not perfect by any means, but it would do. The shoes on offer were all out of the question – they were much too large. With a shrug, she turned away from the wardrobe. She quite liked going barefoot anyway.

Moving quietly, she sneaked out of the bedroom and down into the console room, heading for the kitchen. On the stairs, she found the clothes she had been wearing when she had regenerated. Or the remnants of them, anyway. She remembered now that she hadn't quite reached the bedroom before the Master had caught up with her. He was much faster than he looked and patience had never been one of his strong points. Picking up her shirt, she saw that it was now not much more than a torn rag, the buttons scattered widely across the stairs. _If he's going to keep ripping my clothes off like that, he'll just have to take me shopping for some new ones_, she thought with amused determination. A wicked grin curved her lips as she imagined him trailing her around one of the huge inter-galactic shopping malls, carrying an armload of her shopping bags. Oh yes, that she _had _to see!

The TARDIS had gone into night-mode while they were in the bedroom and the lights in the beautiful console room had lowered to a dim glow. The glass platform felt cold under her bare feet as she walked across it and she could hear the comforting hum of the glass time rotor as it oscillated steadily back and forth. Led by the insistent demands of her stomach, she didn't linger but slipped through the lower door into the maze of corridors beyond, intent on reaching the kitchen. As a result, she failed to notice that, behind her, an unknown stream of data was scrolling lazily across the screen of the navigational terminal. Several levers on the console moved in a graceful dance, apparently of their own accord, as though invisible hands were controlling them. And in response, the time rotor shuddered briefly, almost imperceptibly, before resuming its previously smooth rise and fall.

In the kitchen, Tejana was ransacking the cupboards. To her extreme dismay, there was very little to eat at all. The best she could come up with was three large unopened boxes of Cheerios, which she examined with distaste. The Master had a bit of a thing for Cheerios. Tejana had never been quite sure why. In her opinion, they tasted like cardboard. Still, it wasn't as though there was anything else. And you never knew, maybe her preferences had changed since she regenerated. Crossing her fingers, she filled a large bowl to the brim with the cereal and added some milk from the refrigerator. Hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter, she tentatively put a spoonful in her mouth - and only just managed to refrain from spitting it out all over the floor. _Oh stars, they were even worse than she remembered! _She was so ravenously hungry, she managed to finish a few more mouthfuls, but then she gave up in revulsion.

_Eggs! _she thought longingly. What wouldn't she give for some eggs? Crispy fried on toast. Or scrambled. Or an omelette...oh _yes_, that was what she wanted, one of the Doctor's omelettes! Oddly enough, despite bizarre cooking methods that were as erratic as everything else he did, the Doctor could make the most amazing omelettes in the Universe. Just thinking about them made her mouth water and her stomach growl.

Just then, a subtle, familiar bump interrupted her day-dreaming. Tejana frowned. The TARDIS had materialised. The Master must have woken after all. She wondered where he had decided to land. Hopefully somewhere she could get some eggs!

Abandoning her cereal bowl, she leapt down from the counter and ran back to the console room, expecting to see the other Time Lord. To her surprise, the room was just as empty and silent as when she had passed through it earlier. But this time, the time rotor was not moving. They had definitely landed. Tejana's frown deepened. Perhaps the Master had put the TARDIS on auto-pilot, with a pre-programmed destination. That was unusual. As a rule, he disliked the auto-pilot function. He tended to be very particular about how the TARDIS was flown and generally preferred to operate the controls himself. And when had he found time to program the navigational computer?

Uneasily, she pressed the button to activate the large circular scanner on the wall. On the screen, she saw some beautiful rural countryside, basking in mid-afternoon sunshine. They had apparently landed in the the middle of a large field of wheat, the golden ears rippling into the distance as if stirred by a light, teasing breeze. Moving across to the navigational computer, Tejana punched in some commands. According to the terminal, this was the planet Mnemosyne, located in the constellation Canes Venatici. There was no other information available.

Tejana hesitated uncertainly, internally debating whether she should work this out herself or whether she should go and wake the Master. In her experience, the first thing the Doctor always did when he landed somewhere new and strange was to immediately charge out and investigate, regardless of the possible consequences. Of course, that did tend to get him into an inordinate amount of trouble most of the time. But surely it couldn't hurt just to _look_. At last, making a snap decision, she activated the door control. Then she descended to the entrance level of the TARDIS and stuck her head cautiously out the door. To her relief, everything seemed perfectly ordinary and peaceful, almost Earth-like in appearance. It was a gorgeous day, the gentle warmth of the sun falling across her face as she gazed up at the wispy clouds merrily scudding across a cerulean blue sky. Nearby, she could even hear the cheerful sound of a babbling brook talking to itself as it wound its way through the landscape. It was just the sort of day that lifted your hearts and made you want to run out into it and joyfully take it as your own.

Tejana glanced back over her shoulder into the dim interior of the TARDIS and then looked out of the doors again, eyeing the golden field of wheat speculatively. Cultivated fields usually meant a farm. And a farm often meant chickens. And chickens meant eggs. And she really, really wanted some eggs. She knew that the Master would be absolutely furious if she left the TARDIS without telling him, especially after she had just regenerated. But she felt fine...better than fine, actually, she felt _perfect_. She hadn't had a single after-shock for over an hour now. He hadn't been asleep for that long - if she hurried, she could probably get back with some eggs before he woke. She could serve him breakfast in bed – now that idea had all _sorts_ of interesting possibilities.

For a moment, she fidgeted impatiently in the doorway, still torn by indecision. But then her stomach growled loudly again and that clinched it. She stepped out into the sunshine and closed the doors of the TARDIS behind her. With a smile, she realised that the exterior of the time machine was still in the shape of a blue police box. Obviously the Chameleon Circuit had found nothing large enough to replicate in this flat field and had defaulted to the most recently used shape. She guessed that the Master wasn't going to be too happy about that, but at least she wasn't going to have any difficulty finding it again upon her return.

Careful of her bare feet, she began to make her way through the waist-high stalks of wheat, heading for the road she could vaguely see in the distance, her copper hair shining like a flame in the light of the sun.

She would be back soon. After all, how much trouble could she possibly get into in this peaceful place?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **

**Hi all! Thanks very much to the following people for reviewing the first chapter of this story:- MayFairy, tree1138, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, OhTex, GallifreanGirl, BeckyBoo12221, MG Atwood, broadwayb, Kaylie S, Omniac, mericat, crazychika495, Lost Moon, Ceville, Aietradaea, babybluepineapple, Fallon the Coyote Pirate, Lovin' It, xxTeam-Masterxx and JoBrookes. You have given me a lovely welcome back and I appreciate it very much!**

**Special thanks to JoBrookes - I was feeling a bit sad because not too many people had reviewed my new Tejana/Master one-shot "A Christmas Wish", but then Jo sent me a couple of really encouraging messages which actually resulted in this chapter getting written, when otherwise it may not have been. I think often people don't understand what a positive effect a few kind words in the form of a review can have, or - on the other side of the coin - how dispiriting it can be when people read but don't review. Anyway, thanks so much Jo, you rock.**

**As I've mentioned before, my updates may be a little slower this time round, due to circumstances beyond my control, so apologies in advance for that. Thank you so much to everyone who decides to stick with me anyway :0).  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>

Upon reaching the dirt road winding among the fields, Tejana looked up and down, trying to decide which direction to go in. The place appeared to be completely deserted. There were no workers in the fields, no travellers on the road. She could see no farm buildings anywhere about, just field after field of golden wheat. However, a little further to the north, she could just make out plumes of smoke rising lazily into the air, apparently indicating a settlement of some kind.

Stepping out on to the road, she began to walk along it, fixing her eyes on the smoke and heading for what she hoped would be a village. Her eyes drank in her surroundings, her hearts lifting at the unspoiled natural beauty all around her. This planet was definitely stunning. The countryside reminded her strongly of medieval England on a summer's day. Except for the air – there was something strange about the air, something just a little bit...different.

Pausing in the middle of the road, she took a deep breath, trying to analyse what it was she had detected. Nothing seemed to stand out, almost as if whatever she had sensed had slipped away again. Frowning in concentration, she reached into her pocket for her laser screwdriver to do a scan, only to realise with some disgust that she had left it on the floor of the TARDIS console room with her old clothes.

Travelling with the Doctor, she had often seen him perform a rudimentary analysis just by tasting the air. Accordingly, in the absence of any other tool, she stuck out her tongue as far as it would go, hoping for the best. Unfortunately, however, she had never perfected her father's eccentric talent and before long, she realised that the only thing she was achieving was to look totally ridiculous. Laughing at herself, she gave up and kept walking. After all, whatever it was, it obviously wasn't toxic, since she felt perfectly fine.

_Perfectly fine...perfectly fine...she was...perfectly...fine..._

The words suddenly seemed to echo over and over in her ears like a broken record. Before she knew what was happening, the road rose up unexpectedly to meet her and her body collapsed in a heap, even as her mind slipped free, surging backwards out of her control, so far backwards, retreating in a swirling rush through the centuries of her life to long, long ago...

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><p>"<em>Come on, run!" Damon hissed in her ear. "They're right behind us!"<em>

_Panting with exertion, Tejana tried to draw some fresh air into her tortured lungs, stumbling along in Damon's wake as her friend continued to forcefully drag her along. Behind them, she could hear the whoops and shouts of their pursuers, inexorably closing in on them like wild beasts hunting their prey._

"_The Library!" she gasped. "If we can make it to the Library, we can hide among the stacks. They'll never find us there!"_

_Immediately seeing the sense of her words, Damon changed direction and they raced deeper into the Citadel, heading for the unassuming entrance to the Endless Library, the oldest and largest repository of knowledge in the entire Universe. Outwardly, the Library appeared eminently unimpressive, hardly bigger than a modestly-proportioned administrative office. Inside, however, like so many Gallifreyan structures, it was dimensionally-transcendental, immeasurably bigger on the inside than the outside and filled with stack after stack of ancient, dusty tomes._

_Access to the Endless Library was supposed to be reserved for senior students of the Academy. Junior students, such as Damon and Tejana, were strictly forbidden to set foot in the hallowed halls. In actual fact, most junior students would never even think about disobeying this rule, having no wish whatsoever to enter the mouldy old mausoleum of Time Lord knowledge, much preferring to spend their study time in the light, bright and infinitely more modern Academy Archives. But this was not the first time Tejana and Damon had sought refuge in the Endless Library when chased by bullies and it was unlikely to be the last._

_Slipping through the double doors, the desperate duo disappeared into the darkness, hurrying to silently conceal themselves in amongst the towering shelves laden with books from all over the Universe. It was not a moment too soon, because almost immediately the outer door burst open again and five young Time Lords piled into the room. They were led by a tall, thin, arrogant-looking boy with long, white-blonde hair falling over his cold green eyes. His name was Tabor and he was the heir of the House of Brightshore. He was also a vicious bully, whose main pleasure in life seemed to be making Tejana and Damon miserable._

"_They're in here somewhere!" he growled. "Find them. But keep it quiet – we don't want to bring the Librarian down on us!"_

_Soundlessly, Damon caught Tejana's arm and pulled her back further into one of the shadowy aisles as Tabor's gang spread out and began to search for them. Blindly, the pair began to run again, deeper and deeper into the obsidian maze of the Library, far deeper than they had ever gone before. But they couldn't seem to shake their pursuers, no matter what they did, and Tejana was beginning to tire. Finally, they came to a row of doors in a dimly-lit aisle in the depths of the stacks. Knowing they could go no further, Damon chose an entrance at random and wrenched the door open, pulling Tejana inside into the concealing darkness, leaving the opening just slightly ajar. Breathlessly, they crouched with their ears to the crack, listening for all they were worth._

"_They're not giving up!" Tejana whispered hoarsely. "They're still coming!"_

"_It's Xandar," Damon snarled. "He's tracking us using the psychic link. He's almost as good at manipulating the link as you are – it's only a matter of time before he leads Tabor and his gang right to us."_

"_The key word in that sentence is 'almost'," she retorted. "Xandar's ALMOST as good as me – but not quite. Maybe I can confuse the issue a bit!"  
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_Clutching Damon's hand, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate fiercely, carefully weaving a psychosomatic shield to conceal both their minds within the psychic link, a delicate, illusory, imperceptible fog designed to scatter and mislead the thoughts of anyone hunting for them, without the searcher even realising what had happened. Damon watched her tense face in awe. While he had always excelled in all the technical aspects of their Academy studies, he had never been able to manage much more than the basics when it came to psychic ability. Tejana, on the other hand, showed supreme indifference to the intricate concepts of TARDIS engineering, but was second to none when it came to shaping and utilising the psychic link._

_Suddenly, they heard the sound of running feet charging heedlessly past the door of their darkened sanctuary._

"_This way!" came Xandar's voice, calling softly but urgently to the others in his little posse. "Follow me – they went this way!"_

"_Get them!" Tabor responded harshly. "Now!"_

_More running feet, fading into the distance, then silence. Tejana raised her head with a mischievous smile. "I think that's just about done it. They'll be chasing their own tails for hours!"_

_Damon grinned back in relief. "I'm betting Tabor's not going to be too happy with Xandar!"  
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"_Tough!" Tejana shrugged uninterestedly. "Better him than us. We'd better stay here and keep our heads down for a while though, until they've got sick of looking for us."_

_Damon sighed and stirred restlessly. He wasn't very good at sitting still. He liked to be out DOING things. "What is this place, anyway? I've never been this far back in the stacks before."_

"_I don't know. I suppose we may as well take a look while we're here," she replied, passing her hand over the control panel by the door to light the unobtrusive glow of the wall sconces. "You never know, it might come in handy as a hidey-hole again."_

_In the dim light, they saw they were standing in a small room. A long, narrow table, surrounded by chairs, took up most of the floor space, while a limited area at the far end of the room seemed to have been set up as a sitting or lounging area, complete with several ragged-looking couches. The walls were covered from floor-to-ceiling in the simple shelving common to the rest of the Library. Most of the shelves were empty, but a few items were scattered about here and there. Everything was covered in a fine layer of grey dust._

_Damon wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Looks like an old study or common room of some sort. By the look of that dust, nobody's been in here for years!" Then his eyes fell on a small pedestal situated in the sitting area and his face lit up like a candle. "Oh, Rassilon, look at that! It can't be!"_

"_What can't it be?" Tejana asked absently, moving across to the shelves to look at some of the books piled up in haphazard, long-forgotten stacks._

"_It's a Sepulchasm board! " he exclaimed, excitedly rushing over to examine his prize. "Do you know how hard it is to get one of these? It must be an antique! Oh wow, it's got all the miniature houses with it and everything!"_

_Tejana did not reply. She was standing as still as a statue, staring down at the fly-leaf of the book she held in her hand, her face ashen._

"_Tejana, come on over here – we have to have a go of this!" Damon said enthusiastically. "Tejana?" Then, still receiving no response, he glanced up to see the look on her face. "Tejana, what's wrong?"_

"_'This book is the property of the Deca,'" she read out, her voice trembling._

_Damon shrugged, not understanding. "So? Who or what is the Deca? I've never heard of it."_

"_Most people haven't," she answered softly. "A long, long time ago, it was a study group, for ten elite students, the best and the brightest in their year. This must have been the room where they met."_

"_Good for them!" Damon said, still tinkering with the Sepulchasm board. "What's that got to do with us?"_

"_Their names are listed here: Drax, Jelpax, Koschei, Magnus, Millennia, Mortimus, Rallon, Theta Sigma, Ushas and Vansell."_

_Suddenly, the light dawned in Damon's eyes. "Theta Sigma? But that's..."_

"_The name my father went by back then," she nodded. "He was a founding member of the Deca."_

_Damon fell silent, recognising the almost hungry look that habitually settled on Tejana's face whenever she managed to find out any new information pertaining to her long-gone father. The Doctor had run away from Gallifrey in a stolen TARDIS when Tejana was barely eight years old and she had not seen or heard from him since. Damon knew that, deep in her hearts, his friend still clung desperately to the promise her father had made to return some day for her. Even as the years stretched on and on, she had never given up hope, always patiently watching and waiting for the man she idolised to arrive on his white charger and rescue her from her miserable life on Gallifrey, like something out of a fairytale. Damon personally believed that the Doctor was never coming back. From what he had heard, the man was a complete rebel, unreliable and erratic, totally unfit to be anyone's father. Fiercely protective of his dreamy, impractical friend, he was always careful never to voice his doubts to Tejana – but he also made sure he never encouraged her in what he considered to be delusional fantasies._

_She was moving quickly along the shelves now, her eyes shining feverishly, sorting through the musty detritus from long ago and reverently handling each book, each knick-knack, each miscellaneous item, as if by touching the things he had once touched, she could somehow bring herself closer to her errant father. Damon watched, all interest in the Sepulchasm board now lost, his hearts aching for her._

_In the end, she came to a small oil-painting hanging on the wall. With a cry, she snatched it down, staring at the scene it depicted. Damon moved over to stand next to her, looking over her shoulder at the incredibly life-like painting. Two boys laughed back at him, not much older than he and Tejana, their arms around each other in unmistakable comradeship. One had a tousled mop of blonde hair and impish blue eyes, his grin full of pure enthusiasm and the joy of living; the other had dark hair and dark blue eyes, his smile more reserved than that of his friend, a touch of arrogance in his gaze._

"_Who are they?" Damon asked._

"_The blonde one is my father," she responded quietly. "I don't know the other one."_

_Turning the picture over, they saw a note written in bold, black letters. "Theta and Koschei. Painted by Ushas."_

_Damon frowned, none the wiser. "Koschei?"_

"_My father's best friend, back then," she said, clearly recognising the name. "You'd probably know him better as the Master."_

"_You're joking! Isn't he supposed to be the most evil Time Lord who ever lived? Gallifrey's most infamous son and all that? And he was your father's best friend?"_

_Tejana nodded. "So the stories go. They say he went mad when he looked into the Untempered Schism. I've never been able to find out too much about him. No-one ever wants to talk about any of the Deca, including my father. All the older Time Lords will ever say is that they brought shame to the Prydonian Chapter and that they should all be forgotten." Reaching out, she skimmed her fingers lightly over Koschei's painted face. "He doesn't look evil, does he? Or mad."_

"_And what is evil supposed to look like, exactly?" Damon asked teasingly._

"_I don't know!" Tejana smiled, punching him lightly on the arm. "Just...not like that."_

"_They weren't much older than us in this picture. They've both probably regenerated any number of times since then," Damon shrugged. "Who knows what they look like by now?"_

_Tejana sat down on one of the couches, the picture in her lap, a wave of sadness crossing her face as she looked down at the laughing blonde boy that had been her father. "Yeah," she said hollowly. "Who knows?"_

_Restlessly, Damon lifted down a three-dimensional chess set from the shelf behind him and began to poke through the crystal pieces. He wished they could get out of this dusty old room. Tejana had enough flights of fancy as it was without getting obsessed with the memory-ghosts in this hidden shrine to a bunch of rebellious young Time Lords now long gone._

"_I haven't told you the latest news yet, Damon," she spoke up suddenly, her voice thin and brittle, falsely cheerful and yet somehow older than Damon had ever heard it before. "The High Council have decided to arrange a marriage for me. It's to be quite soon. They're not even going to wait until I graduate."_

_Damon dropped the chess set he was holding with a resounding crash, the ancient pieces scattering all over the floor. "What?"_

_She swallowed painfully and gave him a wavering smile. "Apparently they won't allow one of the Great Houses to completely die out. With my father gone, I'm the last of the House of Lungbarrow. I've been told that it's my duty to marry and beget some heirs."_

"_Marry who?" Damon demanded, completely stunned by this information._

_Tejana made a small, bitter noise. "You won't believe me, even when I tell you."_

"_Tejana! Who?"_

"_Tabor!" she shot back, her voice sharp with pain. "They want me to marry Tabor!"_

_Damon sat down with a thump on the couch beside her, a little puff of dust rising in the air around him. "Tabor! The same Tabor that just chased us in here? The same Tabor that's been making your life miserable for decades? That Tabor?"_

"_The one and only."_

"_But...he hates us both. Why would he ever agree to marry you?"_

_Tejana gave a harsh little laugh. "Actually, it was his idea. Tabor is like a spoilt child, always wanting what he can't have. And in this case he's decided he wants me."_

"_But his family..."_

"_Are rich and powerful in their own right. The House of Brightshore have no need for their heir to marry for money or position and his parents are doting enough to allow him to choose where he will, provided he keeps the bloodline pure. And as a descendant of one of the Great Houses, my bloodline is irreproachable," Tejana told him bluntly. "Not to mention the added incentive of the political sweeteners the High Council have no doubt brought to the table in an attempt to get me safely married and off their hands."_

_Damon stared at her in horror, amazed at her apparent calmness in the face of this disaster. "You can't marry Tabor, Tejana. You just can't!"_

"_I know," she replied. "I have no intention of marrying him. Which is why I stole this from Tutor Rohan's office earlier today."_

_With a flourish, she reached into the pocket of her robes and withdrew a golden ring. It was engraved with complex High Gallifreyan symbols and was the right size to be worn on a person's wrist._

"_But...that's a Time Ring!" Damon gasped incredulously. "Oh, Rassilon! Tejana, if you're caught with that...you have to put it back. Right now!"_

"_Not a chance!" she retorted. "This is my only way out, Damon. I'm going to reconfigure the bio-matrix and then calibrate it to integrate with the psychic link and connect with the Doctor. Wherever he is in the Universe, I'm going to find him."_

"_Are you INSANE?" Damon exploded. "I know you're not particularly brilliant at temporal engineering, but do you have any idea how many things could go wrong with that plan? You'll end up scattering your atoms across the cosmos!"_

"_That's why I need your help!" she answered, clutching pleadingly at his arm. "You ARE brilliant at temporal physics, Damon. If anyone can help me pull this off, it's you! PLEASE, you're my only hope!"_

"_No! No way! It's far too dangerous!" Damon leapt to his feet and began pacing up and down, running his hands compulsively through his dark hair. "There has to be another way to stop this marriage. There has to be!"_

"_Like what?"_

"_WE could get married," he suggested impulsively. "You and me. Then they couldn't make you marry Tabor."_

_Tejana's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her friend with loving affection. "Oh, Damon, that's so sweet of you, really it is. But your parents would never allow you to defy the High Council. They'd disown you first."_

"_I wouldn't care!" Damon insisted stubbornly. "Not if it kept you safe."_

"_It wouldn't...the High Council would just dissolve our marriage and join me to Tabor anyway," she said in a dull voice. "The only way I can be truly safe is if I leave Gallifrey altogether. Besides, you don't want to be married to me. We don't love each other like that."_

_Tejana and Damon had been friends for a very long time, ever since Tejana had started at the Academy. They had grown up together, sharing everything. As they had matured, it had become inevitable that they would also share the first few curious sexual fumblings common to all adolescents across the Universe. But, in due course, they had come to the mutual decision that they were much better off as friends than lovers._

"_What does love matter?" Damon snapped, unwilling to give up his idea now that it had taken root in his mind. "Love doesn't play any part in Gallifreyan marriage, you know that. We marry who we're told and just hope that we end up with someone who doesn't put us through hell for the rest of our lives! At least you and I care for each other - we'd get on all right, instead of destroying each other more and more every day, like my parents!"_

"_It matters to ME!" Tejana shot back. "There has to be more than that. One day, I'm going to find someone I can really love, someone who means everything to me, someone who's more important to me than my own life. And that will be the man I'm meant to be with and no other!"_

_As she spoke, without even knowing what she did, her fingers once more stroked softly over the painted face of the smiling dark-haired boy in the portrait on her lap._

_Worried sick about both Tejana's predicament and the dangers of her proposed solution, Damon lost his temper. "That's a stupid, childish fantasy, Tejana! Just like all your silly dreams about your oh-so-wonderful father are nothing but fantasy. He's not coming back. He never, ever intended to come back. And even if you do manage to find him out there in the Universe somewhere, he's not going to want you, because he's never wanted you since the day you were born! Why can't you, just for once, face reality and deal with it?"_

_The colour drained from Tejana's face, the stunned look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes as potent as if he had slapped her. With freezing dignity, she replaced the Time Ring in her pocket and rose to her feet, her hands clutching the portrait tightly, her knuckles white._

"_Thank you, Damon," she said softly. "At least I know how you really feel. And you needn't trouble yourself. I'll sort this out for myself."_

_Already regretting his hasty outburst, Damon reached for her arm. "Tejana, wait! I didn't mean it!"_

_But without another glance at him, she pulled herself free and walked out of the room._

* * *

><p>Centuries later, far away on the planet Mnemosyne, Tejana drew in a huge gasp of air, realising that she was crouching on her hands and knees in the middle of the road, the sharp gravel stinging her skin.<p>

Shakily, she managed to sit up, putting her head in her hands in an attempt to clear it. _What the hell had just happened? _Some kind of weird flashback to her childhood. She hadn't thought about the events of that day for centuries. It had never been completely forgotten, it was much too important for that. But she had chosen to bury it beneath the tangled complexity her life had become since then, just as she had chosen to bury so many other bitter-sweet memories of Damon. It hurt far too much to remember, knowing that she would never see her friend again.

But why was she remembering it now? And in such a strange, eerie way, like an impartial observer rather than a participant in the scene, hearing not just her own thoughts, but Damon's as well. She couldn't help shivering, despite the hot sunshine beating down on her skin. It had to have something to do with the psychic link, she reasoned to herself. After all, at the time she had been sheltering both their minds from Xandar's ruthless probing – obviously she had somehow subconsciously picked up on Damon's thoughts and was only now remembering them.

Warily, she got to her feet and brushed the loose dirt off the skirts of her white dress. Everything seemed all right now. Perhaps it had been some kind of mental aftershock associated with her regeneration, similar to the physical aftershocks she had already been experiencing. In which case, it was nothing to worry about – it would settle down in the next few hours. She glanced back over her shoulder at the blue outline of the TARDIS, sitting serenely far away in the distance, surrounded by the waving, golden wheat-stalks. For a moment, she had a sudden compulsive desire to immediately go back to the Master. But then, telling herself not to be silly, she shrugged her shoulders and kept on walking towards the village up ahead, determined to block out the painful memory of Damon's face.

* * *

><p>A gust of air had seeped furtively into the TARDIS when Tejana had opened the double doors on to the planet Mnemosyne. Invisible to the naked eye, it twirled and danced surreptitiously through the console room, mingling with the air already present within the time machine, before drifting up the stairs into the bedrooms.<p>

In the big white bed, the Master breathed deeply, before stirring fitfully and muttering to himself incoherently in Gallifreyan.

Then, tightly clutching the pillow he held in his arms, he whimpered in his sleep like a child in pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Hi there. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: MayFairy, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, broadwayb, The Mouse's Rose, xxTeam-Masterxx, Anonymous person whose name I don't know ;), KoscheithePianist (x 2), Romana-II, tree1138, Astra68, Lost Moon, Omniac, JoBrookes, Kaylie S, Geraldine (x 2), MG Atwood, iLuvTwiBoyz, crazychika495, tardisandafirebolt (x 2) and Aietradaea. You are all amazing and your support is the sole reason I am managing to update at all right now, so thank you so much.**

**Astra68 - I was unable to respond personally to your review because the system says you have disabled your PMs. But I just want you to know that I appreciate your comments immensely and I hope you continue to let me know what you think.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<strong>

_The Master was dreaming. In his dream, it was a cold winter's morning, over nine hundred years ago on Gallifrey. Pale, chilly sunlight filtered through the stark, leafless branches of the ancient trees surrounding the gracious stone manor house, meeting and dancing with the soft, grey swathes of mist drifting across from the distant fields of red grass, forming an eerie, swirling veil of light and shade across the manicured front lawns of the estate. Everything seemed unnaturally quiet, curiously muffled and indistinct, as though this particular morning nature had paused and was holding its breath._

_A young boy, no more than five years old, was playing on the grass. He had short dark hair, a round childish face and big navy-blue eyes. He was dressed warmly against the cold and was desultorily kicking a ball around and around the decorative plinth of the great white marble sundial that was set into the lawn._

_All at once, out of the corner of his eye, the child saw the opaque curtain of vapour seem to billow and separate. Clutching his ball in apprehension, he watched as a dark figure emerged from the murky light, trailing ghostly streamers of mist. It was a woman, tall and stately, with long straight black hair flowing down her back almost as far as her ankles. Slowly, she came towards him, her bare feet hardly seeming to touch the ground as she floated over the lawn, her blood-red cloak swirling out around her. A crippling sense of dread enveloped the child, all his instincts warning him that this woman meant him nothing but harm. He wanted to run but he couldn't move, his feet rooted to the spot in terror as she came to stand before him. Looking up into her face, he nearly gasped. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even more beautiful than his mother. And yet she was strange, so strange that she sent a shiver up his spine. Arcane, serpentine patterns were tattooed in henna across her lovely face, while her glittering eyes were a peculiar shifting grey-green, constantly changing so quickly that it was impossible to say exactly what colour they really were._

_Reaching out her hand, she stroked his face. Her nails were long and sharp and painted with black lacquer. A series of dark dots were tattooed up each of her fingers and her touch was as cold as death._

"_So..." she said, in a voice like ebony velvet. "You are Lord Oakdown's son. What is your name, child?"_

_He didn't want to answer and yet, for some reason, he felt he had no choice. "K...Koschei."_

_The woman smiled, revealing her teeth. With a chill, he saw that her incisors were thin and curved and razor-sharp, like the fangs of a snake. "Kosssccchei," she hissed, rolling his name hatefully over her tongue, her fingernails digging cruelly into his skin._

_Suddenly, a scream of fury exploded from the direction of the house. "GET AWAY FROM MY SON, YOU BITCH!"_

_Then there was the sound of running feet and, to his immense relief, his mother was there. With one swift movement, Lady Oakdown thrust him behind her, standing protectively in front of him like an enraged lioness defending her cub._

"_Get you gone from here, Aminestra," Lady Oakdown spat. "You are not welcome."_

_The strange woman drew herself up haughtily, her peculiar eyes fixed unwaveringly on the other woman. "So you say. In times past, the Oakdown manor welcomed me with open arms...as did its lord and master, into his home and into his bed!"_

"_That time is long gone. He is married to me now," Lady Oakdown said coldly. "You were never anything more to him than his whore and he has cast you aside, just as you deserve. I am his wife and Koschei is his only true-born son. Now I say to you one more time, get you gone from here, back to your filthy Shobogan hovel, back where you belong!"_

_Aminestra hissed in anger. "Fine lady, with your fine husband and your fine mansion and your fine son!" she said, her beautiful face contorted into a bestial snarl. "You think that nothing can touch you but you are a fool. Only a fool would make an enemy of a Daughter of the Pythia."_

_Reaching out, she laid her hand flat on the surface of the marble sundial. All at once, the temperature seemed to drop even further, a freezing wind erupting from nowhere and beginning to howl around them. Impossibly, the thin, knife-like shadow cast by the sundial's gnomon began to spin wildly, as though entire days were passing by in a matter of seconds._

_Lady Oakdown cowered away in fear, one arm raised to protect herself from the unnatural tempest, the other firmly holding her son against her side, his face buried in her skirts._

"_Time, fine lady," Aminestra sneered, raising her voice against the gyring wind. "Time takes care of its own, as you will discover to your cost. And the time is coming when the mighty House of Oakdown will fall again and yet again, at the hands of me and mine. As I have seen it, so let it be."_

_With that, she looked directly at Koschei, her lovely mouth stretched into an unholy smile. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her right forefinger with its long, obsidian-lacquered nail...and began to tap it with ominous, staccato force on the marble of the sundial._

_One...two...three...four..._

_One...two...three...four... _

_ONE...TWO...THREE...FOUR..._

And nine hundred years later, the Time Lord known as the Master sat bolt upright in bed with a scream of horror, his body drenched in sweat.

* * *

><p>It took Tejana a lot longer than she had expected to reach the village. The narrow track she was following was not a direct route, but wound in and out around the tall pastures of wheat, seemingly without rhyme or reason. A few times, Tejana was tempted just to leave the road altogether and to forge her own way through the fields towards the distant spirals of smoke. But she had no wish to end up lost and unable to find the TARDIS again, so she soon decided against it. The Master was going to be angry enough as it was. She didn't want him to have to come looking for her. A sneaking suspicion crept through the back of her mind that perhaps her real motivation for this mission had a lot to do with showing the Master that he didn't control her and she could do what she liked. Impatiently, she flicked the thought away. After all, that would be childish.<p>

At last, the track joined up with a larger road, which was obviously used much more frequently, going by the myriad of hoof-prints and deep wheel-ruts that churned the muddy surface. Tejana stood still at the junction of the two tracks, listening hard. Not far away, she could hear the jingle of a harness and the creak of approaching wagon wheels. Instinctively, she ducked down into the long grass that bordered the road, effectively concealing herself.

Around the bend came an old wooden cart with high sides, covered by a faded green canvas tarpaulin, stretched high over several arched bows. It was heading in the direction she wanted to go, pulled by a large white draught horse with a bored expression and a plodding gait. The driver was a middle-aged man dressed in rough, homespun farmer's clothes. His wide-brimmed straw hat was pulled down to shadow his face and a corn-cob pipe dangled precariously from the side of his mouth. He appeared to be half-asleep.

Tejana waited until the cart passed her hiding place and then sprang out and jumped lightly into the back of the vehicle, leaving her legs dangling over the edge. Now _this _was a better way to travel, she thought, looking ruefully at her filthy, scratched feet. Stars, she really_ had_ to get some shoes from somewhere, this was ridiculous.

Looking around in the back of the covered wagon, she realised that the farmer's cargo was a load of small, green melons. She picked one up and examined it. It smelled good, but – hungry as she was – she wasn't tempted to taste it. She had gone off eating melons a long time ago, when she had cracked open a river-fruit on the planet Alzarius, only to find a horrific spider nestling inside. She shuddered at the memory. That was nearly three hundred years ago now, but even so, for someone who hated spiders as much as Tejana did, it wasn't something you got over in a hurry.

Throwing the melon back with its fellows, she stretched and made herself as comfortable as possible amongst the lumpy fruit, while waiting for the wagon to reach its destination.

* * *

><p>The Master sat on the edge of the big white bed, so disoriented by the creepy dream that he was hardly even aware of his surroundings, his hands over his face as he tried to get his double heartbeat under control. There were no drums, not any more. They were gone. He was free. <em>Listen, listen<em>...there was only silence in his head, just silence, nothing else.

And yet in his mind's eye still he could still see that long, black talon tapping out the deadly rhythm in his dream, hear the sharp staccato sound that had tortured him for more than nine centuries.

The dream had been so palpable, so acute, almost like a memory. He shook his head violently, trying to clear it, trying to shake the miasma of fear. It wasn't a memory...it couldn't have been. He was sure he had never seen that strange woman before. And why would he suddenly remember something that had apparently happened when he was four years old, after all this time?

The woman's words echoed eerily in his head: _And the time is coming when the mighty House of Oakdown will fall again and yet again, at the hands of me and mine..._

A bitter smile twisted the Master's mouth. _I've got news for you, lady, figment of my imagination or not,_ he thought grimly, determined to force the unsettling dream to the back of his mind. _Despite all the tight corners I've been in over the last nine hundred years, I'm still alive. And as long as I live, the House of Oakdown still stands...unlike the rest of Gallifrey..._

Slowly, his breathing began to return to normal, gradually calmed by the comforting thought. All those decrepit, doddering old Time Lords, so proud of their lofty ideals and their much vaunted nobility, so quick to condemn and scorn him as an outcast and a renegade...all of them gone now, lost to history, nothing but ash and dust scattered by the Time Winds to the four corners of the Universe.

But against all the odds, _he_ remained and would continue to remain. He was the Master. He always came back. And now he had Ana, the part of him that had been missing for so long. If he had his way, soon she would give him a son and heir. Then, of all the proud Great Houses that had once existed on Gallifrey, the House of Oakdown would be the _only_ one to stand strong once more.

All at once, he needed the lithe warmth of Tejana's body against his own to dispel the ominous foreboding left by the dream, wanting to feel her quiver with pleasure under his touch, reminding him that he was indeed still alive. Turning to her side of the bed, he went to reach for her, expecting to see her asleep beside him, her copper hair spread out on the white pillow.

Instead, with a chill, he realised that she was gone, the bedclothes rumpled and empty.

* * *

><p>Tejana could smell the village well before the slow-moving cart reached it. As part of their complex physiology, Time Lords tended to possess very sensitive noses, which in some cases was a useful advantage. In other cases, such as this, it definitely wasn't. Tejana grimaced in disgust. The odour was an unpleasant mixture of manure, rancid meat, fish, livestock and unwashed human.<p>

The village itself was quite big, comprising a motley assortment of houses – some made of wood, some made of stone; some big and some small; some only one storey and some reaching as high as two. The buildings were loosely arranged around a central market-place, fanning out in an unorganised, higgledy-piggledy fashion, as though they had randomly sprung out of the earth like mushrooms, with no rhyme or reason. The streets twisting between the houses were narrow and dark, most of them not much more than dirt laneways.

It was obviously market day, because the central area was bustling, crowded with stalls of every description, the harsh cries of the vendors spruiking their wares filling the air with a cacophony of sound. Tejana hopped unobtrusively from the back of the melon cart and took shelter behind a large pile of lobster pots made of woven cane, looking out over the colourful scene with fascination. No two stalls were the same. Some were covered by canvas awnings, to protect the offered goods from the sun. Some were decorated with bright flags or gaily-painted wooden poles. Others were not much more than a trestle table or even just a blanket spread on the ground. Some were selling fruit and vegetables, some were selling clothing or ells of delicately-woven fabric. There was a leather-goods stall, with hides stretched on make-shift frames to dry in the sun and a selection of sandals on display. There were stalls selling wooden and metal jewellery and stalls offering a variety of basket-ware. Rough wooden pens held cows and sheep and donkeys, all of them for sale, their attributes being shouted far and wide by their enthusiastic vendors. There were people everywhere, men and women both, most of them dressed in home-spun peasant style apparel, but some wearing richer, more finely-worked clothing. In the middle of the market-place, several men worked around a huge clay bread kiln, from which a wispy plume of smoke rose lazily into the sky. A delicious aroma of freshly baked bread drifted towards Tejana and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes with delight. _Oh, this was wonderful! If only she had more time to explore! _But the sun was already beginning to sink towards the horizon. It was getting late. Exploration would have to wait for another time.

On the other side of the market-place, she could see a woman sitting behind a trestle table piled high with rudimentary cages that appeared to contain chickens. Quickly, she looked through the assorted coins in her pockets, collected from different planets all around the Universe. Obviously she would not have any of whatever currency they used on Mnemosyne, but many of her coins were made from solid silver or gold. Hopefully she had something she could trade for some eggs and maybe some bread. Perhaps, if she had enough left over, she could even get a pair of sandals for the trip back to the TARDIS.

Slipping out from her hiding place, she began to make her way across the crowded market-place, trying to keep a low profile, her mind on her prospective purchases. However, she didn't get far before she realised that, far from blending in as she had expected, she seemed to be making a bit of a sensation. People were stopping dead in their tracks and staring at her as she passed by. Vendors who saw her abruptly stopped shouting, their mouths hanging open in surprise. The sibilant sound of whispering swelled like an ocean behind her. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that she was being followed by a small mob, all of them staring at her as if she was some kind of apparition. Tejana's throat went dry. They all seemed to be gaping at her long, dark-copper hair, as if they had never seen anything like it before. Rapidly, she flickered her eyes over the people surrounding her, this time paying closer attention to detail. With a sinking feeling, she realised there were only two types of women in the market-place. Firstly, there were the respectable-looking females, modestly dressed from neck to toe in dark-coloured clothing, their hair completely invisible, fully covered by close-fitting coifs. Secondly, there were the women wearing brief, scanty clothing, their hair roughly cropped short. These women walked with their eyes downcast and wore iron collars around their necks.

_Slaves! _Tejana thought in horror. _And the others are obviously free women. Oh stars, and I don't look like I belong to either group. No wonder I stand out like a Cyberman at a Dalek picnic!_

Even more significantly, as she gazed around, she noticed that she couldn't see a single person in the entire market-place with ginger hair. Trying to act nonchalant, she forced herself to keep walking calmly towards the chicken stall, conscious all the while of the crowd following in her footsteps. Now that she had begun, she had no choice but to brazen it out. She had seen the Doctor do it a thousand times. The truth was, nine times out of ten, if you behaved as if you were meant to be in a place, however unlikely, most people never even thought to question you.

"Good afternoon," she said to the woman behind the stall, keeping her voice light and confident. "I was wondering if I could buy some eggs."

The woman, a small elderly lady wearing a black veil and coif over a matronly grey dress, took a step backward in evident fear. Her fingers moved in a complex gesture in front of her, an unmistakable attempt to ward off the evil eye.

"Stranger!" she hissed. "Stranger with hair of flame! You will bring the wrath of the Pythia down on us all!"

At her words, the muttering from the crowd grew louder and more ominous. Tejana didn't notice, her awareness of her surroundings suddenly fading away, the old woman's words circling around and around her...

_Pythia...wrath of the Pythia..._

All at once she felt sick to the stomach, a roaring noise filling her ears.

_And then she was back in the War Room on Gallifrey, in the early days of the Time War, facing Rassilon and the inner circle of the High Council, the Lord President's cold grey eyes boring into her like glacial ice. And at his side, whispering constantly into his ear, stood the grey-haired old crone, the Shabogan witch-woman, said to be the last descendant of the Pythia..._

Tejana staggered, as though someone had struck her, the vision streaking across her brain like the savage lash of a whip.

"We have to get away from here," she whispered to herself in confusion, no longer even conscious of what she was saying. "We should never have come here. We should never, ever have come."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: Ouch! A bit of a drop in reviews for the last chapter, as compared to the previous two. Was it a bad chapter? Or is everyone just cross with me about something?**_

_**Ah well, them's the breaks - thanks very much to the following people for reviewing: MayFairy, Aietradaea, tardisandafirebolt, Catelly (x 2), Romana-II, tree1138, Omniac, xxTeam-Masterxx, crazychika495, OhTex, Astra68, mericat, padmay97, Riverbleu, BiggerontheInside95, babybluepineapple (x 2) and Geraldine.**_

_**Sorry this took a while to update, but I've had a lot on my plate as well as some technical issues. My keyboard is all fixed at last though, so that at least is good to go now!**_

_**Anyway, hope this chapter is all OK...**_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<strong>

Hurriedly, the Master threw on his clothes, cursing himself bitterly for being stupid enough to fall asleep. So much for keeping a protective eye on Tejana while her regeneration settled. Now she was gone and he had no idea exactly where she was or what she was doing. Even worse, he could no longer hear the steady hum of the TARDIS engines, which meant they had materialised. That was not good at all. Although she could fly the TARDIS competently enough when she chose, Tejana was usually fairly uninterested in the day-to-day operation of the time machine and left that up to him, an arrangement that suited them both perfectly. The fact that she had uncharacteristically decided to land the TARDIS while he slept, during the unpredictable first fifteen hours after her regeneration, worried him deeply.

As he pulled on his boots, he reached into the psychic link, urgently searching for her mind, with little success. All he received back was a blurred, indistinct impression of her. He couldn't even sense enough to tell if she was still inside the TARDIS. Again, he cursed, aware that this was also a direct consequence of her recent regeneration. A Time Lord consciousness would always automatically withdraw from the psychic link at the point of regeneration, to protect the other Gallifreyan minds in the collective from the often devastating effects of the change. As time went on and the regeneration settled, the connection would begin to restore itself. Until then, he was going to have to find another way to track her down.

Quickly, he made his way to the stairs leading own into the console room, hoping he would find her there. But the room was empty and still, the glass time rotor completely motionless. A pile of Tejana's clothes were folded neatly at the foot of the stairs. She had obviously picked them up and tidied them from where they had been scattered earlier, when he had carried her naked into the bedroom. Frowning, he bent down and picked up the torn white shirt. He breathed in deeply. The crushed material of the garment still carried her familiar scent, a sweet, wild smell of honeysuckle that made him feel light-headed. He had been much too impatient to bother undoing buttons – he had simply ripped the shirt off her. He closed his eyes, remembering how soft her new body had felt beneath him as he made love to her. So small. So vulnerable. So fragile. Thinking about it made him want her all over again, right here and now.

_Had he been too rough? Had he hurt her? Was that why she had crept away_ _while he slept? Had she changed her mind about staying with him, even after giving him her true name?_

He dropped the shirt and hurried across to the navigational terminal to see where they had landed, half expecting to see that she had brought them back to Earth. His guts twisted painfully in anticipation. _ Back to The Hub. _ _Back to Handsome Jack_.

But the data on the terminal indicated that they were nowhere near Earth. For some reason, Tejana had landed them on an obscure planet named Mnemosyne he had never heard of before. His hands moved rapidly across the console, requesting an interior life-form scan. Sure enough, he was currently the only Time Lord on board. Wherever Tejana was, it was somewhere out there, on this unknown planet. The exterior scanner showed nothing of interest in their immediate surroundings, just a huge field of waving, golden wheat. Without hesitating further, he strode towards the doors. Just the thought of her regeneration starting to fail while he was not there to help her sent a chill through his hearts. Worrying about her reasons could wait. The first thing was to find her and make sure she was safe.

_After that...well, perhaps the whole chaining her to his wrist idea hadn't been such a bad one, after all._

* * *

><p>All at once, a disturbance ran through the crowd facing Tejana, a commotion starting at the back and sweeping to the front like a ripple across a pond.<p>

"Lordsmen!" someone shouted.

Like magic, the people began to melt away, peeling back and opening up a path, respectfully clearing the way for three men to approach. Feeling like she was moving in slow motion, Tejana tried to shake the cloud of confusion from her mind. The newcomers were dressed in flowing dark green cloaks over brown leather armour and high boots. They wore long, lethal-looking swords and swaggered among the townspeople arrogantly, as though they owned the place. Tejana instinctively disliked them on sight.

They came to a halt in front of her, three pairs of eyes raking over her with studied insolence. The leader, a man with curly brown hair, a hard face and a muscular build, smiled menacingly at her. "Well, well, what do we have here? An escaped pleasure slave from one of the other Keeps, no less. Looks like this is our lucky day."

_A pleasure slave? _Tejana's back stiffened in anger, her own eyes sparking dangerously as she drew herself up haughtily. "You're making a mistake," she said coldly. "I'm not a slave."

The man threw back his head and laughed raucously. "Not a slave? Do you take me for a fool, girl? No free woman is permitted to display her hair in that manner. And with hair of that colour, I'll wager that you're a very valuable slave indeed."

"As it happens, where I come from, it's perfectly normal for a free woman to wear her hair loose!" she retorted, her gaze sliding past him to the village gate, mentally calculating the slender odds of getting past this idiot and his men. The sun was already beginning to set. Surely the Master would be awake by now. Somehow, she had to talk her way out of this predicament and back to the TARDIS, before she got into any more trouble.

"Oh yes? And where exactly would that be?" he asked.

Tejana hesitated for a moment. From the primitive look of this village, trying to explain that she came from another planet was totally out of the question. No doubt to these people, space travel would fall into the same category as witchcraft. And yet she had to say something. Somehow she had to persuade him to let her go.

"A long way away," she hedged. "You wouldn't know it."

"Ah, as I thought. One of the Far Keeps."

"Yes, that's it...a very far keep," she agreed hastily, injecting an imperious note into her voice and praying she sounded convincing. "My name is Lady Tejana and I come from the Far Keep of TARDIS. And it's getting late, so I really have to get back. So, if you don't mind..."

"Forgive me, _my lady_, I had no idea," he responded, sweeping her a deep bow. "My deepest apologies for detaining you."

Tejana eyed him suspiciously, fully aware that there was something in his voice that didn't quite ring true, as though deep down he was laughing at her, even though his face was perfectly serious. The twin smirks on the faces of his companions only added to her apprehension.

"That's quite all right," she answered loftily, still playing her part to the hilt. Taking a chance, she held her head high and went to hurry past him, only to find that he had moved sideways into her path, a mocking grin on his face. Immediately, she stepped to the left, trying to get around him. But again, he was too quick and easily blocked her way.

Realising that he was playing with her, she fixed him with an icy glare. "Are you going to get out of my way or not?"

"Of course, my lady," he said silkily. "Just as soon as you explain to me why, if you are not a slave, you wear a brand on your ankle?"

Both Tejana's hearts sank. She had forgotten all about the burn on her leg. Looking around at the slaves she could see here and there in the crowd, she realised each of them wore distinctive marks burnt into various parts of their bodies. _Brands. The mark of a slave. _To an outsider, there was no doubt that the Master's hand print, so clearly cauterised into her bare ankle, would look exactly like a brand.

"That's not what it is!" she snapped fiercely.

The man raised his eyebrows, while his companions guffawed loudly, elbowing each other as if she had just said the funniest thing in the world. "Oh, no? What is it then?"

She stared at him helplessly. How could she possibly explain it to them? Even a reasonable person would find it difficult to understand and these guys were clearly far from reasonable.

"I...it's just a burn..." she tried. "From...an accident."

"Uh huh...an accidental burn that just happens to be shaped like a hand-print," the man mocked. Then his face hardened, his eyes narrow and deadly. "Enough games, girl. It's plain enough what you are. And even if you are not already a slave, by the time I'm finished, you will be. I have no intention of letting such a valuable prize slip away." With that, he gestured widely to his men. "What do you say, boys? Should we leave this one for the Captain and his Slave-takers, or should we bring her to Lord Ivrium ourselves and garner a rich reward?"

One of the men spat violently on to the ground. "A pox on the accursed Captain and on his Slave-takers too. They're always stealing the glory. This one's ours and so is the reward!"

Slowly, Tejana began backing away as the three men advanced on her.

"Let's not make this difficult, shall we, slave?" the leader said in a cajoling voice. "You can't get away. Why not come quietly? It's time for you to meet your new master."

"Yeah, about that..." Tejana said tightly, still retreating. "I kind of already have a Master. And I'm guessing he's pretty ticked off around about now. And when he gets ticked off, bad things tend to happen. So thanks for the offer and all, but I really should be getting back to him."

Gazing at her hands, she flexed her fingers, feeling the excess artron energy from her regeneration surging beneath her skin. She smiled wickedly. Then she put one hand under a corner of the egg-seller's table and the other similarly under a neighbouring stall loaded with huge, silvery fish. With one quick sharp jerk, she up-ended the two tables, right into the path of the oncoming men, tossing the produce high into the air. Eggs rained to the earth like tiny missiles, while cages smashed and broke open, releasing a gaggle of ruffled, squawking chickens, flying at the startled men and flapping their wings dementedly. Fish slipped and slid along the ground, making it difficult for the men to keep their footing in the general confusion.

"You should remember, boys, big things sometimes come in small packages!" she called gleefully, as she darted lithely away through the crowd. "Bye-bye!"

The Lordsmen were between her and the gate, so she had no choice but to run into the warren of lane-ways leading off the marketplace, hoping she could get a chance to double back. Her limbs moved easily and freely, her muscles rippling under her skin, her breathing hardly even quickening. She knew that her above-average strength and stamina would vanish once her new regeneration settled and the excess artron energy dissipated. But for now, the thrill of it was like drinking a heady wine. _Oh, gods, it felt so good! _Leaping into the air like a gazelle, she almost shouted for joy.

Behind her, she could hear sounds of angry pursuit. The Lordsmen had obviously pulled themselves together and were still determined to capture her. She laughed as she ran. She was sorely tempted to lead them a merry chase around this maze of streets, just for the sheer fun of it. But the sun had nearly completely vanished now and the purple haze of twilight was beginning to creep over the land. She really did have to get back to the Master, even if it did mean eating more revolting Cheerios for dinner. She had to find a way to double back to the village gate and soon. Pausing for a moment, she waited until the three men appeared at the end of the street and caught sight of her. Then she gave them a cheeky wave and took off running once more, before vanishing around a corner.

"Get her!" she heard the leader shout furiously.

The laneway Tejana had run into branched off in two different directions. There was a tavern on the corner, a disreputable-looking place called 'The Wheat Sheaf", complete with a crudely-drawn sign hanging low over one of the streets, depicting an extremely questionable picture of a haystack. Jumping up, Tejana struck at the sign with both hands, making it swing violently back and forth with an eerie creaking sound. Then, she ducked into a nearby doorway and hunkered down in the pooling shadows, effectively concealing herself.

The three Lordsmen charged heedlessly around the corner. Seeing the swinging sign, the leader grinned triumphantly. "She went that way!" he shouted, breaking into a run. "We've got her now. That's a dead end!"

Peeking out from her hiding-place, all Tejana could see were their backs disappearing up the street at a rapid pace.

"Suckers," she whispered in impish satisfaction.

Leaping to her feet, she started to run back towards the marketplace, hoping against hope that the village gate had not already been closed for the night. But before she had taken three steps, she knew that something was very, very wrong. Pain flared in her belly, twisting and burning like a white-hot screw, radiating agony throughout her whole body. It was by far the worst after-shock she had ever had.

"Oh, no," she breathed, falling weakly to her knees in the middle of the lane. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Not now, please not now!"

She had to get out of here. The Lordsmen would soon discover her trick when they couldn't find her in the dead-end street. They would return and if they found her lying helpless here...

Desperately, she tried to rise, but her legs wouldn't co-operate. Darkness screamed at the edges of her vision, threatening to close in on her. She could feel the artron energy simmering in her chest, boiling like hot lava. No longer joyous and thrilling, it was pure anguish, threatening to consume her.

_Oh gods, why didn't I listen to the Master? _she thought bitterly, drowning in a haze of pain. _Why didn't I just stay in the TARDIS?_

Gasping, she slid sideways into the mud, falling on to her back. Overhead, she could see the twinkling stars beginning to emerge in the darkening sky above the roof-tops. _Fire, she was on fire._ Burning between her hearts, surging up her throat, over her tongue...

_Koschei...Koschei, help me..._

Involuntarily, her back arched and her lips parted, a cloud of golden energy exploding from her mouth, shining like a swarm of tiny fireflies in the gathering gloom. Then her body went completely limp, slumping back to the ground as unconsciousness took her.

* * *

><p>Initially, Tejana's trail was not difficult to trace. As soon as the Master stepped out of the TARDIS he saw the narrow path of broken wheat stalks winding away through the large field. The sun was setting now, painting the sky in a brilliant blaze of orange and red and purple. Out of habit, the Master pulled his black hood over his head, concealing his face. He knew nothing about this planet. He preferred to be as inconspicuous as possible until he had a bit more information to use to his advantage. Like a dark, formless shadow, he began to follow in Tejana's footsteps, his senses as keen as a hunting wolf. The atmosphere was dry and oppressively warm, despite the evident approach of the evening. Overhead, birds called happily to each other as they flew home to roost for the night. He could smell the fresh, clean scent of the earth beneath his feet and the green wall of ripening wheat all around him.<p>

At last he came to a rutted dirt lane-way. Pausing, he looked up and down the road, unsure which way Tejana would have gone. By now, the light had almost totally faded, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of him in any direction. Crouching down, he used the glow of his laser screwdriver to light up the immediate area. Not far away, he found a distinct imprint of a small, bare foot in the soft dirt by the side of the road, heading north.

Just then, a scorching pain seared across his mind, the psychic link suddenly springing to life with a vengeance.

_Koschei...Koschei, help me..._

Fear ripped through him as he heard her calling to him, tearing at him like the claws of a wild animal. _Ana!_ She was in agony. Her regeneration was going wrong! A pressure of darkness cramped his lungs as he remembered how it had felt when she had died on board _The Valiant_.

_Not again – he was never going to lose her again! Never, never again!  
><em>

Without hesitation, both his hearts pounding wildly, the Master began to run.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: Hi all! Big thanks to the following people for your reviews - __Romana-II, OhTex, The Master's Rose, crazychika495, BiggerontheInside95, MayFairy, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, babybluepineapple, Bad Dog No Biscuit, xx-Team-Masterxx, Catelly, tree1138, Aietradaea, Astra68, Padmay97, Anonymous Fan and Lost Moon (x 2)._**

_**To Anonymous Fan - Thanks so much for the lovely review. I hope I didn't really make you fail your exams though, lol. I really hope you continue to read and enjoy (and review too)!**_

_**Here 'tis!**_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER FIVE<strong>

The last rays of the dying sun stained the cobblestones of the rapidly emptying market-place blood-red as the vendors packed up their stalls, hurrying home at the end of a long day to the comfort and safety of their own hearths. The night-watchmen were already manning the gate, ushering out those farmers who lived beyond the perimeters of the village, ready to close the heavy wooden barricades against the unknown perils of the oncoming night.

The waning light slanted across the village roofs, only a few stray beams penetrating the darkness festering between the houses, shimmering across the still form of a woman lying in the middle of a muddy lane and transforming her mane of tumbled copper hair into a corona of fire.

As the sun sank to its evening rest, two tall figures slipped out of the gathering shadows and crossed over to the woman. Without speaking, the tallest of them lifted her into his arms, bearing her slight weight with effortless ease. In the distance, angry shouts echoed back through the warren of lane-ways, together with the approach of pounding feet. The two men exchanged a silent glance and then vanished back the way they had come, taking the woman with them.

By the time the enraged Lordsmen pelted back up the narrow street, there was nothing of interest left for them to see.

* * *

><p>No light penetrated the Temple of the Pythia. The building was long, the air moist and hot and strangely uninviting. The creature walking through it, heading for the Inner Sanctum, did not mind. It was used to dwelling in the dark places beneath the earth with its dwindling brethren, hiding in fear from the encroaching humans that had infected its world like a spreading disease so many eons ago. But today, the creature had a message that would change all that. Soon, the accursed humans would be nothing but a distant, unpleasant memory. If the creature had understood enough about emotion to smile, it would have done so.<p>

To the outward eye, it presently looked just like any other male peasant from any village on Mnemosyne, with a scruffy brown beard and weather-beaten skin, dressed in a homespun jerkin and trousers. However, as it climbed the steps to its destination, the elaborate disguise seemed to ripple and sink back into its body, ultimately showing the creature in its true form. It was humanoid in shape, with a head, two arms and two legs. It had two, large pale eyes that glittered in the darkness like twin moons. Its body appeared to consist of some sort of viscous substance which shimmered translucently as it moved, almost as if it was entirely made of water. It had no colour of its own, but instead reflected the colours of everything around it. At the moment, since there was no light in the immediate vicinity, it slid along like a shadow, a dark nightmare made real. The creature was ancient, old when the planet was young. And unlike the humans, it was old enough to know that this place did not belong on Mnemosyne. It was...other. Just as the one who ruled it was other.

Nervously approaching the imposing black throne, the creature prostrated itself on the floor, its palms and forehead flat to the ground. To its ultra-sensitive nose, the Inner Sanctum smelled of human blood. It breathed deeply in appreciation. It could never get enough of that smell.

"Speak," came the deep, dark voice from the throne.

"He is here, Lord," the creature replied, keeping its head subserviently to the floor. "He has left the capsule and walks freely, breathing the air of Mnemosyne."

"At last..." the voice breathed, savouring every word. "At last my long wait is over."

"Do you wish him brought to you, Lord?"

"No. I need him to remember the truth. Then the path of Fate will lead him here. I have waited this long, I will wait yet a little longer. As it was seen, so let it be."

"Yes, Lord."

"Go now. You know what to do."

Bowing deeply, the creature backed away, without raising its pale eyes above the ground, grateful to be given permission to withdraw from the oppressive presence. Within seconds, it was gone, vanishing back down the steps into the darkness.

"So...your overweening arrogance remains your greatest weakness," the voice mused softly. "I knew it would not allow you to remain hidden from me forever. Did you really think that a cosmic disturbance such as a temporal displacement would go unnoticed?" A sinister chuckle rattled through the silence. "Welcome to Mnemosyne, brother. Welcome back to hell."

* * *

><p>One minute the Master was running along the road, lithe and fast, his entire being single-mindedly concentrated on one thing and one thing alone – reaching Tejana as quickly as possible. The next minute, it was as though he had run into an invisible wall. The impact jolted him from head to toe, throwing him bodily to the ground. There was an excruciating, tearing pain inside his head, as though some sort of barrier had just been ripped savagely away. The earth seemed to open up beneath him and then he was falling and falling and falling...<p>

_Darkness. He can't see anything. Two voices talking nearby. He should know who they are, but he doesn't. He doesn't know anything. His mind is empty, a blank, blank sheet waiting to be written on._

"_Oh, gods! What the hell just happened? He's reverted into a child!"_

"_It's an unavoidable side effect of the Chameleon Arch. I didn't just re-write his DNA to human, I had to insert impregnable memory blocks as well. He has an incredibly formidable mind. It took a huge amount of energy, which had the side effect of physically regressing him into childhood. But he can never, ever be allowed to remember. None of us can, it's far too dangerous, but especially him. I can never trust him."_

"_But...what will happen to him?"_

"_I'll leave him somewhere safe for now. Somewhere far, far away, beyond the reach of the War, where no-one can find him."_

"_And me?"_

"_The same. I have one more fob-watch here – this one's for you. I'll drop you off on 21st century Earth. You'll be safe there. And it's fantastic. You'll like it."_

"_So that's it then? We live and die as humans, with no memory of who and what we were?"_

"_No, I'll come back for you, I promise. When it's all over."_

"_But if you also have psychic blocks in place, how will you know to look for us?"_

"_The TARDIS will remember. Just keep the fob-watch with you – never let it out of your possession, even for a second. I won't recall any of this or understand exactly what's happening, but the TARDIS will guide me and I'll find you – both of you."_

"_And once you've dropped us off? What are you going to do then?"_

"_Then? Then I'm going to end the War, once and for all."_

_Voices fading into nothing. Then, opening his eyes, a long time later. At last, he can see. The air smells electric, as though a storm has just passed over. Everything is silver. He is lying on smooth, rain-washed silver sand, the fine grains cushioning him like a feather mattress. The sea is silver, lapping at the shore in argent ripples, soothing him with a soft shushing sound like a lullaby. And the sky is silver, stretching on and on, cloudlessly above him, like a pure, metallic reflection of the sea below. The Silver Devastation. He knows that's what it's called, has always known it, but he doesn't know how or why. Far away, thunder rumbles and bright lightning trickles across the sky. He sits up, looks down at himself. He has the thin body of a small child. He is naked, a rough woollen blanket loosely wrapped around him. There is something around his neck, hanging heavily from a chain, the links digging into his skin. He looks at it curiously. It's a watch, an old golden fob-watch. He doesn't try to open it. It's broken. It doesn't open. Somehow he knows that too. On one side, it is beautifully engraved with intricate, inter-locking circular patterns. On the other, one word has been carefully scratched into the metal. Is it a message, meant for him to understand? He gazes at it, trying to make sense of it. But no, if it is written on a watch belonging to him, surely it must be his name._

_YANA._

_His name is Yana._

_He looks up, staring along the gleaming stretch of sand. In the distance, he can see a group of people approaching. They are dressed in loose robes and flowing head-dresses of Sand Nomads. They are moving swiftly. They will reach him soon. He will be found._

_Then there is a wheezing, groaning, grinding sound from nearby, behind the shimmering sand dunes. He knows it's the sound of leaving, the sound of abandonment...a sound that pulls achingly at his one, single heart, suddenly filling him with unbearable loneliness._

_Without knowing why, he begins to cry..._

Flat on his back, the Master gave a hoarse groan, suddenly back on Mnemosyne. He could still feel the hot tears streaking down his cheeks. Convulsively, he clenched his fists in the soft earth at his sides, bringing his hands up before his eyes and allowing the black soil to trickle between his fingers, almost convinced he would see fine, soft, silver sand.

_It was a obviously a hallucination, some sort of psychic attack. The Time War didn't happen like that...he had triggered the Chameleon Arch himself, to escape the Dalek invasion of the Cruciform. There had been no-one else involved. It had been his choice alone, his decision. _

He shook his head violently. The moon had risen high in the dark sky above him. He had no idea how long he had been out to it, lost in the strange vision. His memories of the Time War were usually so clear-cut, sharp-edged like a diamond, more so than any other time in his long life. Yet now, everything seemed to be wavering, his mind suddenly blurred around the edges. First that weird dream about his childhood, now this. His senses sang with danger – this planet was _wrong_. He had already spent enough time lost in the wilderness of insanity, thanks to Rassilon and his cursed drums, he never wanted to go back there again. Every instinct inside him screamed at him to run back to the TARDIS and get as far away from this place as possible, _right now_.

But even as the thought came to him, he sat bolt upright, his face twisted in a snarl. He was no hero and never would be. His sense of self-preservation was far too strong for that. He had no desire to save people or planets, like the Doctor. The rest of the Universe could go to hell in a hand-basket, as far as he was concerned. Drums or no drums, that hadn't changed. But there was no way he was leaving without Ana. She was close to being the only living thing he had given a damn about in nearly nine hundred years - the light to his darkness, the laughter to his bitterness, the warmth to the ice inside his soul. And, whatever else happened, he was never giving her up.

Levering himself to his feet, he began to run again, like a hunting wolf. He was the Master and he would get her back. No other alternative was acceptable.

And _then_ they were out of here.

* * *

><p>Further to the south, the pale moonlight shone across a field of golden wheat, frosting the abundant ears with mysterious luminescence. In the midst of all this glory sat a blue box, its bold colour incongruous against all the surrounding silver and green and gold. Yet, even as the moonlight danced around it, stroking its sides lovingly with questing, eldritch fingers, it began to fade silently in and out, until eventually it disappeared altogether. The only thing left to show that it had ever been there at all was a deep, rectangular impression in the ground, like some sort of bizarrely-shaped crop circle, with a trail of broken stalks of wheat leading away across the fields to the distant road.<p>

* * *

><p>Tejana stirred painfully, consciousness slowly seeping back into her brain. <em>Gods, every muscle in her body ached.<em> That had to have been the grand-mother of all after-shocks.

She could sense she was not alone. There were people moving about nearby. Instinctively, she kept her eyes closed and did a quick, silent inventory of her body. Everything seemed to be fine. Apart from feeling like she had been run over by a steam-roller, there did not appear to be any permanent damage. She could remember the cloud of artron energy she had expelled through her mouth. Perhaps that had saved her...certainly it was better out than in!

From what she could tell, she appeared to be lying on some sort of bed. Someone had placed a damp cloth on her forehead. It smelled of some sort of herbal concoction – nothing dangerous, clearly an effort to heal, not to harm.

"You must be insane!" said an angry woman's voice. "What were you thinking, bringing her here?"

"She was being hunted by Silas and his Lordsmen," a male voice replied. "She was helpless and alone. What would you have us do?"

"Leave her there, of course," the woman hissed. "It's not our problem! You're a woodcarver, Brandon, not a knight in shining armour. It's not your job to protect damsels in distress. Now you've put us all in danger for the sake of a pretty face!"

"Aye, she's pretty enough," a younger male chimed in. "But that's not all. You've got eyes in your head, Lydia. Look at her hair! The colour of flame, just like the Prophecy says!"

"You're as mad as your brother, Corin! She's just some rich man's pleasure slave, not much better than a whore. Who knows what colour hair the women of the Far Keeps have? Pink with blue stripes could be normal there, for all we know!" the woman called Lydia snapped. "And as for the Prophecy, it's naught but a foolish old wives tale!"

"Lydia, we all make allowances for you because of your grief," the voice of an older woman interrupted reprovingly. "But I cannot permit blasphemy against the Ruach in this house."

"The Ruach!" Lydia exclaimed bitterly. "Let's see how much the Ruach helps you when Brandon and Corin are taken for The Gift, just as Aaron was. If I speak blasphemy by scorning the Prophecy, then let me be struck down for it. Mother Hulde, you cannot seriously believe this slave-girl came from beyond the stars in a blue box!"

"Why don't you ask her?" Mother Hulde said with gentle amusement. "She's been awake for some time now, haven't you, child?"

Realising it was no use continuing to pretend, Tejana's eyes flickered open warily. These people had obviously saved her from the Lordsmen and therefore probably meant her no harm. However, she didn't like the sound of this Prophecy business one little bit. There had been too many prophecies featuring in her life lately, one way or another, and they never meant anything good.

As she had expected from listening to their voices, there was a small group of four people facing her, two females - one old and one young - and two males. The two females were both wearing the dull-coloured clothing and the close-fitting headgear of free-women. The men wore open-necked white shirts, with brown corded trousers and soft leather boots.

They were in a long, low room with stone walls and a thatched roof. The floor consisted of compressed dirt, neatly scattered with rushes. A huge stone fireplace dominated one side of the room. Tejana could see a big pan, filled with some sort of stew, bubbling away on the fire. Her empty stomach rumbled. It smelt absolutely divine. To the left of the fireplace was a large, roughly-hewn table with benches to each side. There seemed to be only one bed in the room and Tejana was lying on it. She guessed that it belonged to the old woman. The other inhabitants of the house must sleep on pallets on the floor.

"Do not be afraid," the old woman told her kindly. "You are safe here. I am known as Mother Hulde. I am the healer and wise-woman of this village."

From the amount of wrinkles on the old lady's face, Tejana judged her to be in her seventies. She was not very tall – not much taller than Tejana herself, in fact – and her eyes were an astonishingly bright blue.

"These are my grandsons," Mother Hulde continued, indicating the two men. "Brandon and Corin. They were the ones who rescued you from the Lordsmen."

Brandon and Corin were obviously brothers. The family resemblance was very strong. They were both tall and well built, with light brown hair and dark eyes. But Brandon was slightly older, most likely in his middle to late twenties. He would have been handsome, if not for a puckered scar that vertically slashed across his left cheek. His eyes were hard and alert – a warrior's eyes in a craftsman's face. Corin appeared to be in his late teens. He had a thin, mischievous face and, unlike his brother, his eyes danced with merry laughter. Both men nodded courteously towards Tejana.

"And this is Lydia," the old lady finished, gesturing towards the other woman. "She is my grand-daughter-in-law, wife to my eldest grandson, Aaron."

Lydia's cold, grey eyes stared at Tejana with active, open dislike. She would have been a pretty woman, if her face had not been set in such bitter, discontented lines. Tejana couldn't see her hair under her coif, but she had pale eyebrows, so she was most likely a blonde.

"Thank you for your help," Tejana began politely, her voice slightly hoarse, no doubt from the amount of artron energy she had recently exhaled. "I'm very grateful."

"Never mind that!" Lydia said sharply. "What is your name, slave? And where are you from?"

Tejana's lips compressed into a thin line. This slave thing was getting very, very old and she was more than tired of it. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm, she said, "My name is Tejana. And as I was trying to explain to your friendly neighbourhood Lordsmen, I am not, and never have been, a slave."

"There are only two types of women on Mnemosyne:- the Unkept and the Kept, the freewoman and the slave," Lydia told her haughtily. "I was in the market-place earlier. I heard what you said to Silas. You could not satisfactorily explain the brand on your leg. No Unkept woman would ever allow such a mark to be placed on her flesh."

Tejana sat up, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "It's not a brand."

"Enough, Lydia," Brandon warned. "Tejana is a guest in this house. Do not dishonour our hospitality."

"A guest!" the woman spat. "She is no guest of mine. She is an escaped slave who has put all our lives at risk just by being here. I'm entitled to some answers."

At that, Tejana swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Don't bother, I'm not going to stay here much longer. It was lovely to meet you all, but I've got somewhere I have to be."

"You can't go now," Corin protested. "It's dark. No-one is permitted in or out of the village after dark. The gates are closed."

"Then I'll climb over them!" Tejana retorted recklessly.

"Let her go!" Lydia cried in a shrill voice. "She has to get back to her master, do you not, slave?" Then, as Tejana glared at her, she sneered, "Oh yes, I heard that part too. You told Silas you already have a master. You claim to be free and yet you call a man 'master'?"

"It's his _name_," Tejana gritted out, very close now to losing her temper completely.

Lydia laughed mockingly. "And I suppose you expect us to believe that this man did not sear the hand-print into your ankle?"

"For the love of Ruach, woman, _enough_!" Brandon commanded in sheer frustration. "Hold your tongue."

But Tejana rose shakily to her feet, her eyes fixed coldly on Lydia's pinched face. "Not that it's any of your business, but as it happens, yes, he did," she answered with the quiet, proud dignity of a Time Lady. "But not in the way that you think. And now I'm going back to him, gates or no gates. Because if he gets angry and comes looking for me, believe me, you're going to have a lot more to worry about than a few clumsy Lordsmen."

Pushing disdainfully past Lydia, who was literally bristling with hostility, she began to walk towards the door, trying to ignore how wobbly her legs felt. It was one thing to say she was going to climb over the gates, it was going to be entirely another thing to actually do it.

"The man of blood," Mother Hulde murmured, her eyes wide and strangely opaque.

Tejana stopped in her tracks, a shiver trickling up her spine as she turned back to face the old woman. "What did you say?"

"The Prophecy..." Mother Hulde replied reverently. "It was foretold...two strangers will come from beyond the stars in a blue box, a man and a woman. And the man will be a man of blood and the woman will have hair of flame."

Lydia surged forward in sudden fury. "The Prophecy is a _lie_!" she shrieked. "When are you all going to understand that? This woman isn't some sort of holy avatar, she's nothing but an escaped pleasure slave! Look, I'll prove it to you!"

And before Tejana could move, Lydia seized her viciously by the hair. A knife flashed, the sharp blade glinting in the firelight as it sliced cleanly through the Time Lady's long, copper tresses. With a gasp, Tejana's hands flew to her head, feeling the short, uneven strands that were all that was left.

Lydia held up the captured hair like a trophy, her face triumphant as her family looked on in horror. "Here's your hair of flame!" she said savagely, releasing her grip and allowing the tawny locks to fall to the ground. "It means nothing, just as _she_ is nothing!"

Tejana watched her severed hair scatter across the floor, weaving through the rushes like a bright pattern on a silk carpet.

"You really shouldn't have done that," she said grimly, carefully retreating from the others, putting a safe distance between them. She knew what was going to happen next. Already her body was beginning to glow, the artron energy rushing upwards from her hearts to her head in a burning, golden wave. The light surrounding her head grew brighter and brighter and there was a few intense seconds of blinding, flaring agony, before the energy finally receded, leaving her feeling dizzy and weak.

The small group of humans stared at her in absolute incredulity, struck dumb with shock. Once again, long copper tresses reached all the way down her back, smooth and gleaming, just as if they had never been cut.

Lydia began to back away, her face contorted in terror. "_What ARE you?_" she screamed. Then she turned and ripped the door open, vanishing into the night.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: So there it is. I'm actually finding it really hard to get through the beginning stages of this one, there's a lot I want to cover to make it all make sense. Which is weird, because normally it's the middle of a fic I have trouble writing, not the beginning. Anyway, that's part of the reason for the slower updates this time around.<strong>_

_**With that in mind, I would really, really appreciate some reviews to let me know how I'm going? Pretty please with a cherry on top?**_

_**Ciao for now!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Author's Note: Greetings! Thank you very much to the following people for reviewing the last chapter - padmay97, Bad Dog No Biscuit, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx, Romana-II, Catelly, babybluepineapple, tree1138, mericat, Aietradaea, Astra68, NearlyHuman, OhTex, Kaylie S and Lost Moon. It's very nice to know you all think this story is worthwhile continuing, because I have to say, I have my doubts.  
><em>**

**_To those following "A Deadly Assassin", I will be going back to that and finishing it up next - apologies for the delay, but this chapter was a total nightmare and took me an incredibly long time to write  
><em>**

**_To NearlyHuman - I'm so pleased to have you review, it was really nice and so encouraging to hear from you, especially as you don't usually review stuff. I would have replied to you personally, but your PM function has been disabled, so I decided to put a big wave to you on here instead. I'm very pleased you are enjoying it. As for reading for the Master, that is just fine - I only write for the Master, after all, LOL!_**

**_To Aietradaea - Thank you so much for doing another Bloopersverse "episode" for me, I always get so excited when you do that! It was especially kind of you when you are in the middle of exams, you are terrific. For anyone who doesn't know, the fic is called "Time Waits for No Woman" and it's a behind-the-scenes look at my "One Moment in Time" Whoniverse. All you silent readers should definitely go and read the latest chapter, because it's about YOU!_**

**_To Padmay97 - Thanks so much for putting me on top of your Fanfic Recs on your lovely blog, such a great compliment!_**

**_That's what I love about this site - just when you are about to give up in despair and not bother any more, people go and do some really nice stuff for you and you feel like you have to keep on trying. So, for every single person mentioned in this Author's Note, this chapter is for you! (ohhh, I hope you like it ***nibbles fingernails nervously in concrete bunker**)  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER SIX<strong>

Tejana groaned, her hands clutching at her temples, her eyes closed. Her head was pounding unmercifully, the newly-healing connection to the psychic link ripped away again for the second time in less than six hours.

"You know, I'd really, _really_ appreciate it if you people could manage not to cut any more pieces off me, at least for the next nine hours," she said crossly. "Because it really _hurts _when I have to grow things back!"

"Forgive us, Lady," came Brandon's choked voice. "We beg your mercy!"

Frowning at his words, she gingerly cracked open one eye, only to see Brandon, Corin and Mother Hulde on their knees before her in an attitude of abject reverence.

"Oh, no," she said wearily. "No, no, no. Don't do that. Please don't do that!"

"We did not mean to offend," Brandon continued, keeping his head bowed. "We did not understand until you blessed us with your miracle."

Tejana forced her eyes fully open and sighed deeply. This wasn't the first time this had happened to her. People on primitive planets often mistook random travellers in time and space for gods. It was one of the reasons there were so many legends about celestial beings sprinkled across the Universe. Explaining the truth was never easy. Personally, she had preferred it when they had thought she was a slave.

"You _still _don't understand. It wasn't a miracle!" she replied gently. "Look, I'm not what you think. I'm a Time Lady. I come from another world called Gallifrey. My people are different to yours. When our bodies wear out or become damaged, they change, renew themselves. And for the first fifteen hours after such a change, anything that's cut off our new bodies just grows back – legs, hands, hair, you name it. That's what just happened to me."

"You mean like an earth-worm?" Corin blurted out eagerly, trying to make sense of her words the best way he knew how.

His brother and grandmother looked at him in absolute horror. "Corin!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

The boy blushed bright red, suddenly realising the unflattering nature of the comparison.

"It's fine, really. He's not the first to say that," Tejana laughed, momentarily reminded of Donna and her outspoken reaction to the Doctor's severed hand. "The point is, despite what just happened, I'm not a god. I'm a person, just like you. So, please, get up – you mustn't kneel to me!"

Slowly, the three of them got to their feet, watching her warily as if suspecting this was some kind of test. Tejana glanced longingly at the door. There was nothing she wanted more right now than to be back inside the TARDIS with the Master. But her head was hurting so much, she knew she had no chance of making it that far, even if her kind hosts would allow her to leave.

"You and your companion...this Master you spoke of...you truly come from beyond the stars?" Mother Hulde asked, her cracked old voice hesitating over the question.

"Yes."

"In a blue box?"

"At the moment, sort of a blue box, yes," Tejana admitted reluctantly, guessing what was coming next.

"Then the Prophecy has at last been fulfilled," the old lady nodded solemnly, her eyes filled with dread. "And the Time of Chaos is upon us."

The ache in Tejana's head seemed to intensify, making her wince. "I know I'm probably going to regret asking this, but what is the 'Time of Chaos'?"

"The end. Or the beginning. No-one knows," Mother Hulde answered. "The ultimate outcome was not foreseen. But, whatever happens, it is said everything will change. The Prophecy tells us that in the Time of Chaos there will come a man of blood from beyond the stars, travelling in a blue box, and with him will be a woman with hair of flame. And in the hands of the woman will rest the fate of the man. And in the hands of the man rests the power to save or damn the entire world."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," Tejana said in resigned exasperation. "Why do prophecies always have to be so dramatic without ever telling you anything you really need to know?"

"You speak as if you have known many prophecies," Brandon spoke up.

"A few," she replied grimly. Then, a thought hit her, loaded with irony. "The thing is, I'm not sure you've got the right blue box. This might seem fairly unlikely, but there are actually _two _Time Lords wandering around the Universe in blue boxes with red-headed female companions - and they could both be called 'men of blood', depending on how you look at it." She gave a small, wry laugh. "And, trust me, if you need someone to save your world, you'd be a whole lot better off with the other one. Mine tends to be a little more talented at destroying things than he is at putting them back together."

* * *

><p>The Master had slowed to a fast walk by now, not through choice but through necessity. He was obviously getting close to the village, because the moon-lit road had become choked with traffic, all of it heading in the other direction. There were carts and wagons and horses, as well as tired people plodding along on foot, heading home at the end of the day. The Master kept to the shadows at the edge of the road, his black hoodie blending perfectly with the darkness. Nobody seemed to notice him, or if they did, they were too intent on their own business to care.<p>

Before long, as the flood of people slowed to a trickle, the village came into sight. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, breached only by two heavy, wooden gates, which by now were firmly closed for the night. The Master crouched in the shelter of a clump of bushes and carefully surveyed his surroundings, intent on mapping out a strategy. His face hardened. He had no real idea whether Ana was inside those walls or not. After her first, frightened cry for help, her mind had slipped away from his once more, despite his frantic attempts to hold on to the link. It was a strange, sharp feeling of separation, almost as though she had regenerated again. Fear stabbed through him like a blade. Regenerating twice within six hours...if she had somehow contracted regeneration sickness, with Gallifrey gone, there would be absolutely nothing he could do to help her. She would continue to regenerate over and over again, in quick succession, just as Rassilon and the High Council had on the Isle of Avalon, until her body eventually aged into dust. With an effort, he forced the horrifying images from his mind. He needed to stay focused – finding her was the only thing that mattered...and he _would_ find her, he promised himself savagely, whoever he had to kill to do it. He couldn't afford to wait until morning, when the gates would open again. Despite his complete lack of resources, he had to think of a way to get inside _now_. And somehow, he didn't think knocking and asking to be let in was an option.

At that moment, one of the wooden barriers cracked open and a man was roughly shoved outside. The Master couldn't see very clearly, but from the way he sprawled across the road, it looked as though he had been given a sharp kick up the rear end. The gate slammed emphatically shut behind him and there was a loud scraping noise as the heavy bar was lowered back into place on the inside. Undaunted, the man climbed unsteadily to his feet and began to stumble along, singing incoherently in a loud, raucous voice. He was a middle-aged man, with a long, brown beard and dressed in rough peasant-style clothing. A ceramic flagon of whiskey dangled loosely from one hand. He was obviously very, very drunk. As the Master watched from his hiding place, the man lost his footing and tumbled backwards into the deep ditch surrounding the village wall. After a brief pause, the sound of his tuneless singing continued unabated, but he was apparently content to stay where he was, because he did not reappear.

_Humans! _ the Time Lord thought with characteristic contempt. _Wherever you found them in the Universe, they were the same stupid waste of space._

But then his eyes brightened and a faint smile passed over his face. Perhaps not such a waste after all.

The Master's list of available resources had just increased by one.

* * *

><p>Tejana was seated at the rough wooden table, ravenously spooning Mother Hulde's delicious stew into her mouth as fast as she could. She could feel the churning artron energy begin to settle again, the much-needed strength flowing back into her body as the hollow in her stomach filled. Prophecy or no prophecy, she was still determined to get out of here as soon as possible.<p>

"Thank you for the food," she said to the old lady. "It tastes amazing."

"It's the least we could do," Mother Hulde replied with grave courtesy. "I must ask your forgiveness for Lydia. She is not herself at present. She is still grieving for her husband, my grand-son Aaron."

"I'm sorry," Tejana murmured awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say. "Did he die?"

Mother Hulde turned away to stir the stew, her hunched shoulders tense with sorrow. "He was taken for The Gift last year."

"The Gift?"

"More proof that you are a stranger to this world," Brandon spoke up heavily, running a whetstone up and down his sword as he spoke. "All who live on Mnemosyne know of The Gift. Every year, at the Feast of Aminestra, each village must give up two young, strong men to serve at the Temple of the Pythia. Once chosen for The Gift, they are never seen again."

Tejana's wooden spoon clattered on to the table. "_Aminestra_? Did you just say the Feast of Aminestra?"

"You know of this?" Brandon asked, staring curiously at her suddenly white face.

"I know of the Pythia and of Aminestra," she replied sharply. "What I don't understand is how you do. One name could be just a coincidence, but both..."

"What do you mean?"

"On my world, the Pythia once ruled, a billion years ago. Then my people, the Time Lords, led by a man named Rassilon, took power and the Pythia were overthrown. Aminestra was the last of their line. She died in the Great War that destroyed our planet," Tejana explained. "But how could you know of any of that on this tiny planet, so far from Gallifrey?"

"The Temple of the Pythia has always been there," Brandon said bitterly "On Mnemosyne, it controls everything and it always will."

"Not everything," Mother Hulde corrected serenely, collecting Tejana's empty plate from the table. "There are things on this world far older than the Pythia. Many people still secretly follow the ways of the Ruach, as we do."

Tejana frowned. "The Ruach?" she queried. "That's one name I'm afraid I haven't heard before."

"The Ruach is known by many names, child. It exists in all places, all things, all people. In the Old Tongue, Ruach means 'Breath of Creation'."

Tejana shifted uncomfortably at the devout expression on the old woman's face. "I'm sorry, but Time Lords aren't really big on divine worship. We believe more in science and reason."

Mother Hulde's hands came up to cup the Time Lady's face, her bright blue eyes delving deeply into Tejana's green ones. "And yet, I can see that you were born hearing the Song, were you not? You hear it now, even as we speak."

"The Song?" Tejana whispered in bewilderment. "You mean the Song of the Universe?"

The old woman nodded.

"But the Song of the Universe is just the manifestation of existential harmony," Tejana protested. "It's the vibration the Universe makes when all is in balance, as it should be."

"As I told you, the Ruach goes by many names," Mother Hulde smiled. "All who recognise it follow in their own way."

Suddenly, Tejana found herself remembering her own words to the Doctor, just after they had returned from the Isle of Avalon:

_I believe that sometimes the Universe corrects itself to preserve the things that are meant to be..._

She found herself wistfully returning the old lady's smile. Despite all the odds, something had brought her back together with the Master, even after all Rassilon's tampering with the time-lines. Perhaps it wasn't so ridiculous to believe in the Spirit of the Universe after all.

"Come now, child, you need to get some rest," Mother Hulde told her.

"I can't," Tejana shook her head, climbing stubbornly to her feet. "I really have to go."

"Do not be foolish," Brandon said sternly. "There is no way through the gates at this time of night. And if you are seen, you will be recaptured and given back to the Lordsmen. We will help you slip out unnoticed in the morning. You will have time enough to find your man then. A few more hours will make little difference."

Tejana sighed in defeat and sat back down again, acknowledging the logic of his words. Unfortunately, logic and the Master did not always go together. Anxiously, she wondered what he was doing right now. It was unbelievably frustrating, being cut off from the psychic link like this. She had no idea whether he was angry with her or worried about her. Knowing him, she guessed was probably a mixture of both. Whatever his state of mind, she had no doubt that he would be coming for her, sooner or later. All she could hope was that nobody tried to get in his way.

"I hope you're right," she said to Brandon, crossing her fingers under the table.

* * *

><p>The Master was about to step out of hiding when he heard the steady thrum of hooves pounding further along the road. Cautiously, he shrank back into the shadows again, just as eight horsemen galloped into view, riding like the wind, their steeds lathered with exhaustion. Despite the ambient warmth of the night air, they were heavily cloaked, their faces concealed by over-shadowing hoods. As the Master watched from his hiding place, the lead figure banged imperatively on the gate. A wooden panel slid open and one of the night watchmen looked out. For whatever reason, he seemed reluctant to admit the newcomers. There was some angry discussion between the gatekeeper and the lead horseman, which the Master could not hear, and then the panel slid shut. The riders waited, their horses stamping and whickering impatiently. At last, the gates opened and they were allowed inside, before the entrance was closed and barred yet again behind them.<p>

A few minute ticked past, as the Master waited to make sure the coast was clear. Then, noiselessly and almost invisible in his black clothes, he slipped furtively across the road to the ditch where he had seen the drunk disappear. The man was still there – he had fallen into an alcoholic stupor and was snoring loudly. As he drew near, the Time Lord's sensitive nose twitched with disgust. The filthy ape smelled of whiskey fumes, stale sweat and vomit. The Master had come across many humans like this during his time living in the wasteland on Earth, after his botched resurrection. For a while, they had actually formed a large part of his diet. As he had later told Ana in The Matrix, they were merely cattle, good for nothing else. Fortunately for this piece of putrid scum, he was no longer that desperate.

Reaching out, he grabbed the whiskey flagon from the man's slackened hand. To his relief, he realised it was still three-quarters full. Hefting the weight of it in his hand, he turned away, a smile spreading across his face.

_The Doctor had told him not to blow things up...but he hadn't mentioned a word about burning things down!_

* * *

><p>Tejana had refused point-blank to take Mother Hulde's bed, so instead she unrolled one of the lumpy pallets on the ground, as far away from the fire as she could get. Corin had given her a cheeky wink and suggested that she could share his pallet, since he had plenty of room for two – an offer that she had refused with some amusement. He was just like she had always imagined a mischievous kid brother to be, if she had ever had one, and she found herself liking him very much.<p>

"Whew, it's so hot!" she said to him, as he helped her with the bedding. "I can hardly breathe in here. You must be glad when the cooler weather comes around."

He paused, a puzzled expression on his face. "What do you mean? What cooler weather?"

"Well...winter," she replied, as if it was obvious. "You know...frost, ice, snow..."

The boy shrugged. "I don't know what those words mean. This is how it always is."

Tejana stared at him, wondering if this was one of his silly jokes. For once, though, there was no mischief in his eyes, just genuine confusion.

"Always? You mean it _never _gets any colder than this?"

"No. Why, is it supposed to?"

She gave a small frown. "Perhaps not. Although, given your other atmospheric conditions, it does seem a little odd."

Suddenly, she stiffened, losing her train of thought completely as the hair stood up on the back of her neck.

"We don't..." Corin began.

"Sssshhhh..." she cut him off sharply. "Did you hear that?"

Across the room, Brandon's head shot up, his hard face immediately alert. "Hear what?" he demanded in a low voice.

"There's someone outside," she whispered.

"Your companion?" Brandon suggested, climbing to his feet and crossing over to stand with them.

She shook her head. "No. If it was the Master, we'd never hear him, he's as stealthy as a cat. Besides, there's more than one."

Brandon and Corin exchanged a glance and simultaneously drew their swords.

"Slave-takers!" Brandon snarled, thrusting Tejana protectively behind him.

Even as he spoke, the door was violently kicked open and seven black-dressed men burst into the room, their swords flashing menacingly in the firelight. Mother Hulde gave a shrill scream that reverberated around the small room.

"Hello, children," one of the men sneered in contempt, his piggy little eyes taking in Brandon and Corin, who were standing with their swords held threateningly before them. "Time to play!"

* * *

><p>Curwen the night-watchman was scowling furiously as he sat in the look-out post high on top of the village wall, the stiff evening breeze stirring his long, matted hair. Usually he enjoyed his job. The village was a very peaceful place and they never had any trouble. The nights were balmy and serene and he could spend his time sitting quietly under the stars doing not much at all. Tonight, though, he'd had to deal with the Captain and his Slave-takers. The law of the village clearly stated that no-one was to go in or out after night fell. <em>Clearly<em> stated! As in, no exceptions. But the Slave-takers were arrogant bastards, thinking they were above the law, pushing honest folk around. They were worse even than Lordsmen, and that was saying something, especially their Captain. Curwen felt the rage bubbling up inside him all over again as he thought of the man's sneering face. The night-watchman almost felt sorry for the pretty little slave they were hunting. He had seen her earlier in the market-place with her beautiful, exotic red hair. _Red _hair! Curwen had never seen such a thing before. Long, red hair on a slave whose only purpose in life was to give a man pleasure. The very idea nearly made his head swim.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a blaze of light in the shadowy undergrowth beside the road down below. He squinted, trying to make out where it was coming from. It grew brighter and brighter, like the flame of a candle, only bigger. Then it seemed to jump, arcing upwards into the air and sailing through the darkness towards the gate. Curwen watched it fly, his mouth open in bemusement, blissfully unaware that he was witnessing a hastily-improvised Time Lord version of a Molotov cocktail.

There was an enormous smashing sound as the missile impacted and then all hell broke loose. A sheet of flame seemed to erupt from nowhere, engulfing the gate in a raging fire-ball. The wooden barricades were ancient and as dry as tinder, thanks to the perpetually arid atmospheric conditions on Mnemosyne, and they blazed up in an instant, deadly inferno.

"Fire!" Curwen screamed, already shimmying down the rough wooden ladder. "_FIRE!"_

People were pouring out of their homes in response to his shouts, coughing and spluttering in the thick clouds of black, choking smoke spreading through the streets. Curwen watched in horror as the wind tossed sparks in the air, raining them down on nearby thatched rooves. Tiny spot fires were breaking out everywhere. Hurriedly, he began to organise people into a bucket brigade leading to the nearby well. They had no hope of saving the gates, they were almost gone already, the charred timber collapsing and disintegrating. But they had to stop the fire spreading, or the entire village would go up in flames.

Outside the walls, a black-dressed figure sat in the bushes and watched the chaos he had unleashed with deep satisfaction. He had achieved exactly what he wanted - the gate was gone and confusion reigned. Before long, once the flames died down, he would be able to slip into the village unnoticed, to find Ana...and to punish whoever had harmed her.

_You'd better run, humans,_ the Master thought with angry amusement, the leaping flames reflecting wildly in his brown eyes. _After all, I'm just getting warmed up. _

* * *

><p>The sound of desperate combat filled the small, hot room as Brandon and Corin tried to defend their home against the invading Slave-takers.<p>

Tejana had no real idea who these men were, but one thing was plain – they were here for her. Backing away, she found herself cornered by a hulking big brute. He looked her up and down and gave her a suggestive leer.

"Come on now, little pleasure slave," he said, his rough voice condescending and almost playful. "Come over here and give me some sugar."

White-hot temper knifed through Tejana as she stared at him in disbelief. Stars, he _had_ to be kidding – give him some _sugar_? No wonder these chauvinistic big apes needed pleasure slaves – with that kind of an attitude, they would never get a girl any other way! And as for calling her 'little' –_ oh, he was gonna pay for that_!

Eyes glittering dangerously, she gave him a sweet smile. Without any resistance, she allowed him to step forward and grasp her arm, drawing her close to him. The thug smiled back, encouraged by her apparent docility. Then the smile disappeared into a high-pitched cry of agony as she kneed him in the groin with as much force as she could muster.

"Bitch!" he wheezed, doubling over in agony.

"Sorry, big boy, but I don't do the sugar thing!" she retorted, ducking lithely away from him. "Not for you, anyway!"

Brandon and Corin were still fighting fiercely, but they were gravely outnumbered. The air rang with steel clashing on steel and the sound of guttural grunts as the men fought back and forth.

"Run, Tejana!" Brandon yelled. "Get out _now_!"

Tejana was about to obey when she saw Mother Hulde crouched back against the wall, clutching at her chest. The old woman's face was gray and she didn't look too good. There was no way Tejana could just leave her like that. Swerving across the room, she managed to reach her, slipping her arm protectively around her.

"Mother Hulde!" she gasped. "Are you all right?"

"Listen to me, child!" the old lady wheezed, clutching frantically at Tejana's hands. "Important...you must remember what I say..._whatever...can be imagined, can be...realised_. You must remember this, promise...me!"

"Whatever can be imagined can be realised," Tejana repeated in bewilderment. "I'll remember, I promise. But what does it mean?"

But before Mother Hulde could answer, they were faced with two more of the raiders, one armed with a sword, the other with a lethal-looking long bladed dagger. Wordlessly, teeth bared in identical threatening grins, they advanced on Tejana. Knowing she was their target, she moved quickly away from the defenceless Mother Hulde, backing up against the rough stone wall of the cottage, until she was completely hemmed in, with the table on one side and the fireplace on the other.

"Got you!" the smaller one hissed triumphantly, brandishing his dagger.

Tejana looked around desperately, before catching sight of the long handle of Mother Hulde's fry-pan still sitting on the fire, the hot stew bubbling merrily away inside it.

"Oh yeah?" she said coldly, snatching the pan from the fire in a single, smooth movement, hurling the boiling contents straight into the ugly little man's face. He screamed and fell to his knees. "Think again!"

"My eyes! My eyes!" he howled. "I'm blind!"

Pain from the heated metal handle of the pan scorched across Tejana's palms, but with the heady mixture of anger and adrenaline racing through her veins, she hardly noticed. While her second assailant was momentarily distracted by his colleague's screaming, she managed to climb up on to the table, her back to the wall, the pan held defensively in front of her. With a snarl of rage, the larger man attempted to grab her, only to nearly lose his head to a vicious swipe from the iron pan, the lethal weapon whistling through the air just past his ear. Ducking and weaving, he tried to get close enough to pull her down from her vantage point, but Tejana was much too quick. Her new body was small, but extremely agile, and the excess artron energy still pumping through her system gave her abnormal strength. Spinning around, she changed direction in mid-air and brought the pan crashing down on the raider's head with a resounding concussion. The man dropped to the ground like a stone.

Empowered by her success, Tejana gave an involuntary cry of triumph and glanced wildly around, both hearts racing, looking for someone else to hit. That was when she saw the tall, shockingly familiar figure standing in the doorway. Their eyes met and he mockingly raised a single finger, shaking it slowly back and forth, as if chastising her.

"You!" she gasped in horror.

Then he raised the gun in his other hand and fired directly at her, the blast taking her squarely in the chest. After that, the darkness took her and she knew no more.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hi all! As always, thank you very much to the following people for reviewing the previous chapter - tree1138, padmay97, Romana-II, MayFairy, Bad Dog No Biscuit, xxTeam-Masterxx, babybluepineapple, mericat, missawesome1213, Catelly, Astra68, Dryu, OhTex, Kaylie S, iLuvTwiBoyz, Aietradaea, Lost Moon and Geraldine. Love you all!_**

**_ To Dryu - Thank you very much for reading all my stories and for your lovely compliments. I'm so glad you enjoyed them!_**

**_Big wave to my other new reviewer, missawesome1213 - so pleased to have you on board!_**

**_Without further ado, here 'tis!  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER SEVEN<br>**

So far, Slave-taker Ryvelt had been having a very bad day. Firstly, he had overslept and woken with the mother of all hang-overs, the result of far too many ales the night before. Then he had lost four weeks wages at a game of dice which, the more he thought about it, he was sure had definitely been rigged. Then the Captain had unexpectedly summoned him for duty and he had been forced to ride hell-for-leather for miles and miles, pounding head and all, to reach this putrid little village. Once they arrived, the job had seemed straightforward enough, eight strong men to capture one tiny red-headed slave. Straightforward enough, that was, until the little hell-cat had kneed him viciously in the privates, transforming his crotch into a flaring hot cauldron of agony.

Sullenly, still rubbing soothingly at his throbbing groin, Ryvelt followed his leader and his other companions out of the oppressive little house into the village street. The Captain was carrying the girl carefully in his arms, her long copper-coloured hair trailing over his shoulder. Ryvelt's palm itched to give the bitch a slap, to pay her back for the injury she had inflicted on him, but he knew the Captain wouldn't allow any damage to the merchandise. They all stood to make a lot of money out of this one. Lord Ivrium had already been alerted and was due to arrive at the Captain's stronghold any time soon, to take possession of his new pleasure slave. Ryvelt couldn't help giving a little smirk at the satisfying thought. Once Lord Ivrium got hold of her, the girl would be sorry she had ever been born.

Outside, the air rang with shouts. A thick pall of smoke seemed to have descended on the village and Ryvelt could see orange flames dancing in the distance against the night sky. He blinked and then looked away, completely uninterested in the plight of the villagers. Instead, he watched his other injured colleagues being loaded carelessly on to their mounts for the long ride home. Gryff still could not see, after having a boiling hot pan of stew thrown in his face, a red, suppurating mass of blisters erupting across his skin. Osgar was only just returning to consciousness, dazed and disoriented, after a savage blow to the head from that same pan. Richer and Kenil had both suffered serious sword wounds from the two young men who had defended their home so valiantly.

All things considered, perhaps he had got off lightly after all, Ryvelt thought smugly.

The others mounted up and galloped away towards the gate, with the Captain in the lead, the captured girl still held in his arms. Ryvelt hung back. He wanted to wait a few more moments, hoping the ache in his groin would subside before he was forced to ride again, confident that he could easily catch up with the company before they reached the stronghold. He had no idea that his bad day was about to get immeasurably worse.

"I need your horse," a voice said.

Ryvelt whirled around. A medium-sized man, dressed in odd black clothing, was leaning casually against a wall nearby, his arms folded, his face shadowed by a black hood.

"_What?_" Ryvelt snarled, unsure he had heard correctly.

"I said, I need your horse," the man repeated patiently.

The Slave-taker stared incredulously at the stranger, astonished that a mere villager would even dare to address him, let alone demand the use of his horse. Well, Ryvelt was just in the mood to teach the insolent bastard a thing or two. His hand immediately went to his sword hilt, tugging the weapon free from its sheathe.

"Why don't you kiss my lily-white arse?" he sneered.

Moonlight caught the gleam of white teeth within the shadow of the hood as the man smiled.

"Sorry," he responded. "Don't have time."

His arm extended and Ryvelt saw a peculiar silver and gold rod in his hand. There was a high-pitched whine and a thin bolt of yellow lightning shot towards the Slave-taker.

After that, Ryvelt's bad, bad day was over.

Permanently.

* * *

><p><em>Memory was a house with many doors – you could open and close them at will, wandering through the rooms, travelling backwards in time within your own mind to revisit people and places long gone. Sometimes the doors opened by themselves as you walked the corridors and you found yourself confronting things you had never expected to see again, sometimes sweet, sometimes poignant, sometimes painful. And sometimes, the doors just remained closed, locked and barred, the contents forever secret.<em>

_When Tejana opened her eyes, she knew she was not yet in the waking world. Nor was she dreaming. She was walking in her House of Memory. It was large – very large. The corridors were long and the rooms were many, nearly six hundred years of life packed away behind the doors. She knew it should all be acutely familiar. After all, she had built this place, piece by piece, in both joy and in sorrow; had returned here often enough before, both willingly and unwillingly. And yet somehow she sensed that she had never journeyed down this dull grey passageway before. It felt misty and insubstantial, as though it could not quite decide whether it belonged here in her House or not. The floor was layered in dust, her small bare feet leaving a tiny, delicate trail of imprints behind her as she walked. If she HAD ever been here before, it had not been for a long, long time._

_A small grey door appeared in front of her. She had reached the end of the passageway and could go no further. The door did not open of its own accord, so she reached out and gave it a push. Nothing happened. It remained firmly closed. She twisted the handle and shook it, but it would not budge. There was no doubt about it, the door was locked. For some reason, her subconscious mind had decided that this place was off limits._

_She was about to turn away and give up, when – far away in the waking world – her physical body sighed deeply in her sleep, unconsciously drawing in a long breath of the strange air of Mnemosyne. And inside her House of Memory, the small grey door swung slowly open._

_Cautiously, driven by curiosity, she entered, not knowing what to expect. The room beyond was dark and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. When her vision cleared, the first thing she saw was a beautiful golden sphere, rotating in mid-air in the centre of the room. It had cracked open, the delicate segments peeling back until it formed a fragile lotus flower. And from the heart of the flower poured a stunning, glorious combination of illumination and melody, painting the walls of the room with multi-coloured, ever-changing fractals of light, filling the air with the shimmering, breath-taking sound of the Song of the Universe._

_Tejana knew exactly what she was looking at. It was a child's toy, a music box, made by the people of the Jaare-Oregim on the planet Lystra. She had seen it before. This was the image her 2008 self had used to break Legion's control over her consciousness, when they had both been trapped in the demon's hive-mind. All at once, she understood where she was, why this memory seemed so foreign to her. That one small grey area in the back of her mind, left behind after her two selves had merged in the Nether World, that tiny pocket of memories that had belonged to her 2008 self and yet did not relate to her in Earth-time 2013. These were the events that had taken place during their period of temporal displacement, the things the 2008 Tejana had done while trapped in 2013 and had then forgotten once the causal nexus had been restored - things her older self had never actually experienced and had decided it was best not to know about._

_Apprehensively, she also recognised the room she was standing in. This was Jack's office in the Hub, she would know it anywhere. She could see his desk, pooled with light from the shaded lamp that sat on it. And beyond that...a man and a woman were embracing passionately on the ragged old couch against the wall, both of them completely naked. That the man was Jack came as no surprise – this was his office, after all. But the woman...the woman lying beneath him was small and slender with long, black, curly hair, her arms wrapped around him, holding him close, so very close._

_Tejana nearly cried out in shock. It was her. She had slept with Jack. Oh gods, she had slept with Jack! _

_And even as the awful realisation lanced through her, she was there, back in her body, the full force of the memory sweeping through her. She could feel Jack's fierce grip as he held her still, exploring her mouth with his own; she could feel his hands moving sensually over her body, the rough, urgent kisses he rained across her breasts; her fingers digging into the powerful muscles of his back; her insides turning to liquid starlight at the heat of him, as he made love to her with his hands, his lips, his body, showing her with his desire what was in his heart; hearing his fervent, whispered endearments, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her; and he was deep inside her, velvety, so strong, moving, driving her onwards, the pleasure building and building; and it felt good between them, so good, so safe, so comforting...but no, no, no...it was wrong, so very wrong, she could never have...she should never have...oh Koschei, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, so, so sorry...what have I done? What have I done?_

With a huge, sharp, desperate wrench, she pulled herself free from her House of Memory, back to the real world, slamming the mental door shut with all the force she could muster. She didn't know where she was and for those first few agonising moments she didn't care. She was curled into a ball, tears running down her face, drawing in terrible, racking, sobbing breaths. Wild, irrational, unthinking guilt numbed her mind. For her to give herself to anyone else except the Master – even Jack_, even Jack_ - it was so _wrong_, an unforgivable betrayal, a shattering desecration. Her lungs seemed to close down, refusing to function, the devastating weight of her new knowledge suffocating her, crushing her with terrible, relentless, unbearable pressure.

_I didn't know_, she told herself frantically. _I didn't know!_

Shuddering, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes tightly shut, she tried to make sense of the thing she had so unwittingly done. She could still feel Jack's touch on her skin, as real and as fresh and as damning as if it had only just happened. But in her time-line it had happened years ago. At that point in her life, she had cared for Jack more than any man she had ever met. He had represented safety, security, peace, hope - all the things she had craved so badly after the Year That Never Was. Was it really so surprising that, in the middle of all the confusion of the temporal displacement, her younger self had reached out to him? And the Master...back then, back in 2008, she had hated the Master with her entire being. There had been nothing between them, nothing to betray, no trust to break. But no matter how hard she tried to justify it, she felt a sick certainty deep inside that if the Master ever found out, he wouldn't see it that way.

Not only that - although the act had been undeniably consensual, Tejana felt inutterably violated. She had not known...but _Jack _had. The Jack from 2013, the Jack she had slept with, the Jack she had _trusted_, had known it all. And yet he had still let it happen. For a few lingering seconds, rage blazed through her, a terrible fury aimed at her absent friend, her tears as hot and painful and corrosive as acid. But then an image flashed into her mind of the anguish in Jack's eyes as she had left with the Master after the temporal displacement had been reversed and her anger flowed away, leaving her feeling depleted, sorrowful and empty.

_Don't do this, Tejana. Please. Just don't._

Despite Jack's heartfelt plea, she had still left him without a backward glance – left, even though she had known she was hurting him badly. She hadn't meant to cause him pain, but she had. Jack had already been through so much. He had suffered so much loss. Could she blame him for seizing a moment of happiness where he could? Her whole relationship with the Master was one big 'could-have-been'. Perhaps she, of all people, should be able to understand Jack's overwhelming need to know how things could have gone, if only the circumstances had been different.

Slowly, she forced herself to sit up, trying to regain control of her emotions, refusing to allow herself to fall apart. There was something very wrong with this planet. That tiny, blurred bundle of memories should have remained untouched, the small grey door unopened, just as she had always intended. But something here had intervened. Something had impelled her into her House of Memory, something had smashed through the defences she had placed there, trying to weaken her. And, somehow, she needed to decide how to deal with it.

Opening her eyes, she looked around, at last becoming aware of her surroundings. She was sitting on a low bed in a small empty room with stone walls. There was one heavy iron door and no windows. This was a cell - she was a prisoner once more. And not just any prisoner. With a jolt of horror, she looked down at herself and realised that her cotton dress had disappeared. She was wearing a tunic made of soft, cream-coloured silk. It was extremely short, barely falling below the tops of her thighs and it clung lovingly to every curve of her slender body, leaving very little to the imagination. It was fashioned in a toga style, secured at each shoulder with a silver clasp which, once released, would enable the garment to slide completely away. Her hands flew to her throat, feeling the engraved metal collar that was fastened there. Around each wrist was a silver cuff, shaped like an ornate snake, its body coiling sinuously around her arm until it was biting its own tail. A finely-worked chain ran from the head of each snake across the back of her hands, linking the cuff to a silver ring nestled snugly around her middle finger. A pair of pretty, jewelled sandals were strapped on to her small feet, completing the sensuous look. Tejana nearly screamed in rage. She had seen outfits like this before, on other planets she had visited. There was no doubt – she was dressed as a pleasure slave. These delicate chains on her hands were symbolic, to remind her every time she saw them that she was _owned_. The bracelets had a practical purpose too – they could be locked together to form shackles, or attached to a chain, to restrain a slave in any way her owner wanted.

The torrent of fresh anger surged through her, but this time it brought no pain. Instead it galvanised her, energised her, gave her purpose. With a snarl, she leapt to her feet, only to fall back with a grimace. She realised that, beneath the silk, her chest was sore and bruised, an aching reminder of the powerful blast that had stunned her back at Mother Hulde's house. All at once, she saw again the tall, mocking figure, the flash of a scarlet jacket.

_That BASTARD! How dare he dress her in this demeaning way? She was a TIME LADY! How DARE he? This time, she would bloody well kill him!_

Glancing furiously around the room, she saw a metal jug in the corner containing water. Tipping out the liquid, she grasped the container by the handle and began to use it to beat savagely on the iron door.

"Hey!" she screamed. "HEY!"

Before long, she heard the bolts being drawn back on the other side. Standing aside, she watched the door slowly swing open. A middle-aged woman entered, closely followed by a heavily armed guard. They had obviously been warned about Tejana's earlier propensity for violence and were taking no chances.

Tejana stared at the woman. She was dressed in a grey, silken gown that covered her from head to toe. Not a slave then – a free woman.

"Peace, child," she chided gently, her voice liquid and melodious. "You will do yourself an injury."

"Who the hell are you?" Tejana demanded.

"I am Isolde. I am the Mistress of the Kept in this stronghold. It is my duty to oversee the welfare of all the slaves here."

Tejana's eyes narrowed. "So you're the one who put me in these clothes?"

"Of course," the woman replied serenely. "As the Captain ordered."

"Well, here's the thing, _Isolde_," Tejana bit out, emphasising the woman's name contemptuously. "There's been a very, very big mistake. And I'd like a word with your _Captain_."

For the first time, the woman's composure seemed to be shaken. "But that is impossible. Slaves do not see the Captain unless he personally summons them."

"Oh, I think he'll see me," the Time Lady retorted grimly. "You just give him a message from me..._Torchwood_."

"Torchwood?" Isolde echoed in an uncertain tone.

Tejana nodded, seating herself gracefully on the low bed. "Torchwood. One word. Easy to remember."

Isolde hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the haughty undercurrent of command in Tejana's voice. But then she backed towards the door. "As you wish."

* * *

><p>As Tejana had expected, her message had worked like a charm. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the guard had returned and had escorted her to a large, empty stone hall. Her wrists were chained to a ring set in the floor and then the guard disappeared. She glanced around warily. The night had passed and early morning sunlight streamed through the arched windows, cheerfully illuminating the room. Judging by the angle of the light, she had obviously been unconscious for quite a few hours.<p>

Without warning, the door opened. The man that walked through it had closely-cropped, light brown hair, a hard, arrogant face and amused eyes. The kind of eyes that stayed amused even when their owner was beating someone up with a baseball bat or throwing them off a twenty-storey building. He was wearing a short, bright red Hussar's jacket with a black collar and cuffs, decorated with elaborate, horizontal gold braid and polished buttons. The jacket hung open, revealing a tan-coloured T-shirt, stretched tight over a muscular chest. A leather gun-belt was looped twice around his narrow waist, in the same style as those worn by gun-fighters in the American Old West on Earth, with a holster swinging low from each hip, supporting two lethal 51st century blaster pistols. A gleaming Samurai sword from feudal Japan hung at his back within easy reach. Some worn, well-fitting, dark denim jeans and a pair of high, Italian leather boots completed the look.

He swaggered across the room towards Tejana, his face split in a taunting grin that showed off his perfect white teeth. She glared at him, totally unimpressed. After all, she had seen it all before.

"Ah, the little redhead that's been giving us so much trouble!" he said. "Bit of a pocket rocket, aren't you, darling? I hear you wanted to see me." His eyes travelled slowly up and down her scantily-clad form, eyeing her suggestively. "What can I do for you?"

"Captain. John. Hart."

Her greeting was pure ice, the words bitten off in disgust, as if they tasted bad in her mouth. "You never change, do you? A slave-trader, making a profit from human misery. How very _typical_."

She knew Hart from her Torchwood days. He was an ex-Time Agent, gone rogue. In fact, he was "ex" a lot of things – not only Jack's ex-partner at the Agency but also his ex-friend and ex-lover. Captain John Hart was not his real name, of course, it was only the name he had used while visiting 21st century Earth, chosen to sarcastically mirror Jack's. Tejana had no idea what his real name was – she had never cared enough to ask. To say that they did not get on would have been a massive understatement. He was probably one of the last people in the Universe she ever wanted to meet up with again.

The first time he had turned up in Cardiff had been in 2008, slipping through the Rift, ostensibly to ask Jack for his help in locating three radio-active cluster bombs, apparently scattered across the city. Jack had agreed, but had warned his team not to trust Hart, telling them that the man had been in rehab not only for drugs, sex and alcohol, but also for murder. Of course, Hart had been lying through his teeth. He had really been after the canisters because he had believed they contained the location of an Arcadian diamond., hidden by a woman he had murdered. Instead, they had concealed an explosive which had latched on to the DNA signature of the woman's killer. Owen and Tejana had succeeded in saving Hart's life by superficially altering his DNA and Jack had managed to force him back through the Rift.

The second time he had returned, late in 2009, he had brought with him Jack's younger brother Gray, who had been consumed with hatred and a need for revenge against Jack. The terrible events that followed had resulted in half Cardiff being destroyed and the subsequent deaths of Owen and Tosh. And for that – for the aching hole left by the loss of her friends - Tejana would never, ever forgive Captain John Hart.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her words, before pacing around her like a tiger, his gaze suddenly intent and speculative rather than seductive. "Well, now," he drawled. "You know the name I used on Earth. And you know about Torchwood. So I can only assume we've met before. The thing is, darling, I don't remember you. And you're not someone I would easily forget. So how about you cut the crap and tell me exactly who you are?"

"Oh, we've met before all right," she spat back, her green eyes sparkling with hostility. "My name is Tejana. Ring any bells?"

He stopped short in disbelief. "Tejana!" he exclaimed. "Tejana from Torchwood? _Jack's _Tejana?"

"Give the man a gold star!"

His sharp eyes bored into hers for one long minute, as though he could detect any deception through sheer willpower. Then he pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing a Time-Agent wrist-strap. Holding it close to her, he activated a few buttons on the control panel. Seeing the results of the scan, he smiled, the corners of his mouth quirking up mockingly. "How about that? Two hearts. It really is you. Tejana the Time Lady. Hello again, Princess – long time, no see!"

"Not long enough for me!" she gritted out. "And I've told you before, don't call me Princess."

Hart had always been fond of handing out nicknames, none of them particularly imaginative. During his short stay with Torchwood, he had managed to coin quite a few. He had immediately dubbed Ianto "Eye Candy", for obvious reasons. Gwen had got "Freckles", while he had always called Tejana "Princess", much to her disgust. He gave her a smirk, knowing exactly how much the nickname had always aggravated her. Putting his finger under her chin, he tilted her head back painfully, examining her face with absorbed attention.

"Wow, you've really had some work done, haven't you? Regeneration, right?" Then, as Tejana gave him a startled glance, he laughed. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I'm an ex-Time Agent. Curiosity's part of the job description. I know all about Time Lords and regeneration – I did a lot of research on your species after the first time we met. It wasn't exactly difficult to hack into the Torchwood records and I thought it might come in handy somewhere along the line."

Tejana's eyes flashed with barely-restrained temper. "If I'm meant to be flattered by that, Hart, I've got news for you."

He gave an amused chuckle, turned his back on her and walked away. Grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit, he seated himself sideways in a big velvet chair, lolling back casually with his legs propped up on one of the arms. With another grin, he tossed the apple up in the air, caught it again, and took a large bite, the crisp flesh audibly crunching between his teeth

"So, Tejana the Time Lady's here on Mnemosyne...does that mean Jack's here somewhere too?" His lazy, apparently careless demeanour didn't change as he spoke, but Tejana could sense the tension coiled behind the question, like a snake coiled behind a rock.

"Sorry to disappoint you but no, he's not," she answered, not in the least bit sorry. "He's still on Earth, as far as I know."

He raised his eyebrows again in a way that made her palm itch to slap him hard. "Not? You mean he actually let you out of his sight? Now that _does_ surprise me. I thought you two were joined at the hip...as well as at other more interesting places."

But Tejana had no intention of discussing her complicated relationship with Jack, especially in view of the unsettling memories she had just regained. She didn't want to even _think_ about Jack right now, let alone talk about him with Captain John Hart, of all people. Hart had always been a very strange, enigmatic character. She had never been able to figure him out. She had no idea what his real feelings were for his ex-lover. One minute he seemed supremely happy to kill Jack himself, the next minute he was putting his life on the line to save him. For whatever reason, whether it was from sheer possessiveness or true emotion, she was perfectly aware that he had been jealous of her closeness to Jack ever since they had first met. It was one of the many things that had caused friction between them. That and the tiny, insignificant little fact that she still blamed him for the deaths of Owen and Tosh.

"Well, you thought wrong," she returned tartly, hastily shutting out the memory of Jack's lips on her skin. "See? Here's my hip...no Jack. And as for my more interesting places, you'll just have to take my word for that."

"Nice to see you haven't really changed either, Princess. That lovely little tongue is just as sharp as ever. It's always such a delight chatting with you. So, tell me...what exactly _are _you doing on Mnemosyne?"

"Leaving as soon as possible. Especially now that I know that you're here. So how about you let me go right now and hopefully we'll never have to see each other again?"

"Now why would I want to do that?" he inquired, taking another bite of the apple. "You only just got here. And I actually quite like your new look. Who knows, maybe you and I could have some fun together."

"I've got a better idea – how about I rip out your small intestine and use it as a jump rope?" she snarled.

He shook his head sadly. "Oh, Princess! Now you've hurt my feelings. And I really, _really _hate it when my feelings are hurt. How did we ever let our relationship come to this?" He sat up straight, his eyes suddenly hard and challenging. "Anyone would think you still bear me a grudge."

"A _grudge_?" she said incredulously. "Owen and Tosh were two of my best friends!"

"And I didn't kill them!"

"Maybe not, but if you hadn't brought Jack's psycho brother to Cardiff, they'd still be alive!"

"He had a bomb fused to my wrist at the time, if you remember," he said angrily. "It wasn't as though I had a choice."

But Tejana wasn't interested in hearing anything he had to say. "There's always a choice, Hart. And yours has always been to look after number one, like the self-serving bastard you are!"

"If this is your idea of persuading me to let you go, babe, I have to say you really need to work on your sweet-talk," he returned sarcastically, tossing his apple core savagely to the floor. "And now, I'm going to ask you one last time, what are you doing on Mnemosyne and who are you here with?"

At first, she had every intention of telling him to go to hell. But then she glanced up at him and what she saw changed her mind. "I'm here with another Time Lord named the Master," she said evenly.

"The Master?" he echoed. "Good name, I like it. Nice story, Princess, and you tell it _so_ well! I almost believe you. The thing is, though, when I hacked into the Torchwood records, they said there were only two Time Lords left – you and the Doctor. No mention of anyone called the Master."

"You really shouldn't believe everything you read," she advised dryly. "And there's really only two things you need to know about the Master."

He yawned, his expression a picture of exaggerated boredom. "Oh yeah? And what would they be?"

Tejana smiled tightly. "Firstly, he'd kill you without a second thought."

"Well, now you've got me quaking in my boots," Hart jeered. "What's the second thing?"

"He's standing right behind you with a laser screwdriver pointed directly at your head."

Hart whirled around, already reaching for his weapons. But he was too late. A man stood close behind him, just as Tejana had said, holding a lethal-looking laser device just inches from Hart's left ear. The intruder had a thatch of tousled ash-blonde hair and was dressed in an Earth-style black hoodie and black jeans. He was not particularly tall or broad, but somehow he still managed to exude power and unmistakable menace. His brown eyes were as cold as death.

"You've got something of mine," he said flatly. "I want it back."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Another Author's Note: Yep, it's Captain John Hart. For those that don't follow Torchwood, he's a canon character, played by James Marsters of "Buffy" fame, and he appeared in the Season Two episodes "Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang" and "Exit Wounds" - check them out on YouTube if you haven't seen them, they're great. So...how do you think John and the Master will get on, heh heh?<em>**

**_Also, it would be really helpful if those who are familiar with Hart's character could let me know if you think I'm getting him right, since this is my first time writing him! Pretty please? Ta XXX_**

**_NB: Anyone who is confused about Tejana's flashback about sleeping with Jack should re-read Chapter 10 of "Return to The Valiant"!  
><em>**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hello everyone! I wasn't going to update this quickly, but after all those lovely reviews, how could I not? Because, the truth is, reviews give me the adrenaline I need to write faster - please keep them coming! _**

**_So thank you very much to the following people: Romana-II, BiggerontheInside95, JoBrookes, padmay97, missawesome1213, Millenia-the-wings-of-valmar, Lost Moon, Guessswho, Bad Dog No Biscuit, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx, Catelly, tree1138, iLuvTwiBoyz, Lorna Roxen, mericat, babybluepineapple, Astra68, Geraldine, OhTex, Kaylie S and crazychika495 (x 3). _**

**_Special hi to my new reviewer, Lorna Roxen - thanks so much for commenting and I hope you will continue to let me know your opinions. SO great to have you on board!_**

**_And here it is, my unexpected update. Hope you enjoy!  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHT<strong>

The silence in the Inner Sanctum of the Temple of the Pythia was deep and dark and total, almost deafening in its intensity. Shivering in fear, crippled with reluctance, the creature timidly approached the black throne for the second time that day. It had more news for the Great Lord. But, unlike the first time, it was not at all sure that the information it brought would be well received.

Once more, it prostrated itself flat on the ground, its palms and forehead resting on the cold, black stone.

"A second visit," the frigid black voice said ominously. "What have you to say?"

"We have more intelligence from the village, Lord," the creature murmured.

"What is it?"

"He...he does not travel alone. He has a companion."

The creature felt the surrounding air instantly become electric with tension and it trembled in alarm.

"A companion? What is this lie? He always travels alone."

"It has been confirmed beyond doubt, Lord," the messenger said, swallowing with terror. "A woman, with long red hair."

"A woman? _What_ woman?"

"She gives her name as Tejana, Lord."

There was a long sibilant hiss of indrawn breath. "Tejanakaturadilena. No...it cannot be. That time-line was destroyed, irredeemably wiped out long ago. We made absolutely sure of it. It is not possible that she could be with him now, after all this time."

"What would you have us do, Lord?"

"You will continue to watch!" the voice ordered harshly. "This changes nothing. If they have somehow found their way back together, it will serve no purpose except to make him even more vulnerable." Again, the dark laughter rang out, rank with unmitigated malice. "The last heir to the House of Oakdown, the great Master himself, laid low for love of a woman. What delicious irony that would be."

* * *

><p>The Master and Captain John Hart stood with their eyes locked, each of them measuring the other with lethal intent, each of them recognising that they were two of a kind, two deadly killers facing off against each other.<p>

The Time Lord's first furious instinct, given the revealing way Tejana was dressed, had been to slaughter Hart where he stood. But then his natural cunning had kicked in. The man still had some possible value as a hostage if he and Ana were both to get out of here in one piece. And the Master had come too far to fail now.

He had arrived outside the house in the burning village just in time to see the Captain mount his horse and ride away, with Tejana held unconscious in his arms, a dark silhouette against the leaping flames. The Master had been thankful to see that Tejana's appearance had not changed. She was still small and slender with a tumbling waterfall of copper-coloured hair. Whatever the extra flash of artron energy had been, it had not been a full regeneration. The stunning flood of relief that flowed through him made him suddenly realise just how important she had become to him, how utterly essential to his life, as necessary to him as his own double heartbeat. The knowledge shook him to the core. He was the Master – no-one had ever wielded that much emotional power over him before. The extent of his need for her terrified him, but he could no longer deny it, no matter how hard he tried. The sight of her held, small and limp and helpless, in another man's arms, enraged him almost beyond bearing. Killing the fool who had refused to give him his horse had provided a brief outlet for some of his fury, but the majority of it was reserved for the red-jacketed stranger who had taken Tejana away.

It hadn't taken the Master long to catch up with the other riders. Wrapped in the dead man's hooded travelling cloak, nobody had seemed to notice anything different or unusual about him. Humans were stupid like that, unobservant to the point of idiocy. They only ever saw what they expected to see. He had responded to the few comments directed at him with an unintelligible grunt, which seemed to be more than acceptable, because nobody questioned him further. He had ample opportunity to study the leader of the group as they rode. He had realised immediately that, like he and Tejana, the 'Captain' was an anomaly here – not just his weapons, which clearly did not originate from this backward planet, but the man himself. He was out of his own time and place, apparently an opportunist who had taken advantage of the ignorance of these primitives to rise to a position of relative power. Unlike the Doctor, the Master did not have a problem with that – after all, he had done the same sort of thing himself on any number of planets before, including Earth. What he did have a big problem with was the fact that the man had dared to lay hands on his woman. And for that, he would have to pay.

After a long ride, they had finally reached the Captain's stronghold, a large stone castle-type building built into the side of a rocky hill and surrounded by a high wall. In the confusion of arrival in the front courtyard, the Master had lost sight of the Captain. The man seemed to have disappeared into thin air, taking Tejana with him. Without the benefit of the psychic link, it had taken the Master several hours to track her down again, carefully avoiding the patrols of guards in the process. When he finally came across her, she was here in this stone hall, deep in hostile conversation with her captor, whom she referred to as 'Hart'. Neither of them had noticed him stealthily entering the room, until he stood right behind the arrogant Captain, his laser screw-driver levelled at the man's head.

"You've got something of mine. I want it back."

Slowly, recognising the murderous purpose in the Time Lord's cold brown eyes, Hart raised his hands in the air.

"I'm afraid you've lost me there," he replied insolently. "I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"He's talking about _me_, you idiot," Tejana interjected, her voice sharp with annoyance. The Master guessed she didn't particularly appreciate being referred to as one of his possessions. That was tough, as far as he was concerned. She _was_ his and, in the future, he would protect her any way he chose. The sooner she learned to obey, the better it would be for both of them. Then situations like this would no longer arise.

"Oh, so you and Blondie have got a _thing_!" Hart exclaimed, his face filled with mocking surprise. "Awwww, that's just so_ sweet._ And he came to rescue you, like a knight in shining armour! God, I haven't been this choked up since I got a chunk of pizza caught in my throat!"

Tejana shot him a look of loathing and raised her shackled wrists. "Shut up and get these chains off me!"

"But first," the Master added. "Weapons. On the ground. In a pile. _Slowly_."

Hart gave a smirk and lowered his hands, careful not to make any sudden moves, very conscious of the laser screw-driver still hovering beside his ear. One by one, he unstrapped his blaster pistols and laid them on the ground, followed by his sheathed Samurai sword. Then he straightened and returned his hands to the air.

"Oh,_ and_ the rest!" Tejana spoke up in an exasperated voice. "He has at least one pistol strapped to each leg, a laser knife beneath the left elbow and a variety of explosive charges hidden in the lining of his coat."

"Baby, you know me so _well, _every last nook and cranny_,_" Hart winked salaciously, swaying his hips in a suggestive manner as he unloaded the weapons she had listed and added them to the growing pile on the ground. But then, unexpectedly, he whirled around, a thin, lethally-sharp stiletto blade sliding from its hidden position in his sleeve into his hand. "Although maybe not as well as you think!"

In one smooth movement, he swung the weapon at the Master in a vicious arc, confident he would strike his enemy in the mid-riff, dragging the knife upwards to his hearts in a mortal wound. It was a good plan and it was well-executed. Ninety nine times out of a hundred, it would probably have succeeded. But not this time. The Master was not where Hart had expected him to be. Moving with almost supernatural speed, the Time Lord had already twisted aside, leaving the Captain's blade to slice uselessly through thin air.

"Gotta be quicker than that, _baby_!" the Master snarled sarcastically in his ear, before wrenching the man's arm powerfully behind his back, forcing him to his knees. The stiletto fell from Hart's suddenly numb fingers, straight into the Time Lord's waiting grasp. The Master's mouth curved in a chilling smile, his brown eyes hard and menacing. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with knives?" he asked mockingly.

With that, he drove the blade downwards, stabbing it deep into Hart's leg, just above his right knee, twisting it sadistically as he went. Hart hissed in agony, a flower of brilliant red blood blossoming around the wound, soaking through the leg of his jeans.

"Have to hand it to you, Blondie," he gritted out, as cocky as ever, even as the sweat broke out on his brow and he bit his lip trying not to scream with pain. "You're good."

"My_ name_ is the Master," the Time Lord responded curtly, expertly throwing the knife across the room, where it embedded itself deep in a wooden beam, handle quivering. "And you haven't seen anything yet. Now, get up. You're going to release Tejana. Cross me again and I'll enjoy killing you as painfully as possible. _Move_!"

Favouring his good leg, Hart managed to stagger to his feet, his arrogant face taut with pain. He limped across to Tejana, with the Master following close behind him. Producing a small silver key from his pocket, he undid the lock shackling Tejana's slave-bracelets together. The length of chain fell away to the floor and she was free.

Immediately, the Master pulled her close to him with one arm, protectively cradling her small body against his own. He could feel every inch of her, the soft, sinuous silk of her slave garment outlining every curve of her body. The sensation both aroused and angered him. His other hand still held the laser screwdriver trained steadily on Hart. Right now, it was taking every bit of his willpower not to press the trigger.

"Get on your knees," he ordered Hart. "Put your hands on your head."

With some difficulty, the injured Captain complied. "Ooh, I just love it when the good-looking ones play rough."

The Master turned his attention back to the woman in his arms, claiming her mouth in a quick, hard, possessive kiss, before asking huskily, "Are you all right, Ana?"

"I'm fine," she responded, nestling her head into his shoulder. "And I'm very glad to see you."

"I thought I felt you regenerate again."

She sighed. "Somebody in the village thought it would be a good idea to cut my hair off. The artron energy grew it back."

The Master nearly burst out in ironic laughter. _Her hair_. Here he was, going insane with worry, and she had been regenerating her hair. If that wasn't just like a woman!

"What the hell did you think you were doing, leaving the TARDIS without me?" he demanded, the tremendous release of anxiety making his voice come out more harshly than he intended. "Especially so soon after regenerating!"

He felt her stiffen at his tone. "I wanted some eggs."

"_Eggs_?"

"Yeah, you know, the little oval white things that chickens lay?" she answered sarcastically.

"I know what eggs are," he shot back. "What I don't know is why you would be so incredibly stupid."

Her green eyes glittered dangerously. "Maybe because there wasn't a single thing to eat in the entire TARDIS except for your damn Cheerios. Maybe because I was starving after my regeneration. And maybe because you were much too interested in taking me to bed to worry about that!"

The Master felt his own temper ignite. It wasn't as if he had been the only one interested in going to bed together – she had been a very willing participant at the time. "Then _maybe_ I should have just left you to it, instead of bothering to chase you all over this bloody planet!" he growled.

"Maybe you should have!" she snapped, pulling away from him. "I'm not eight years old any more, Koschei. I can look after myself. And for your information, I was actually just about to apologise to you, but after being such an ass, you can go and whistle for it!"

Before the Master could reply, there was the sound of ostentatious throat-clearing. "Is this a private lover's quarrel, or can anyone join in?" Hart queried caustically, looking up at them from his position on the floor. "Hello? Man bleeding to death here."

"Yeah? Well, it couldn't happen to a nicer bloke!" Tejana rounded on him. "Maybe now you know how Tosh felt!"

"Who's this guy supposed to be, anyway?" the Master asked her. He had picked up enough of her previous conversation with Hart to realise that they had met before. He had also gathered that they were not friends. His eyes flicked contemptuously over the other man's outlandish clothes. "The circus ringmaster?"

"Oi, Blondie, don't diss the threads," Hart returned with a sneer, spreading his arms wide to show off his jacket. "At least _I've _got style. What look were you going for, emo chic?"

"He calls himself Captain John Hart," Tejana said shortly, ignoring him as if he hadn't spoken. "He's an ex-Time Agent. He was Jack's partner...in every sense of the word."

The Master felt his muscles tense involuntarily at the mention of Jack's hated name. _Bloody Harkness_. They could travel to the other side of the Universe and still Tejana tripped over reminders of him everywhere. It was like forever having an invisible third person in their relationship that the Master just couldn't get rid of, an unseen presence always coming between them.

"All the more reason to kill him then!" he growled, hating the powerful surge of jealousy that gripped him every time he thought of Handsome Jack.

"Listen, whatever beef you have with Jack, don't take it out on me," Hart said hastily, his tone suddenly conciliatory. "And, I have to warn you, killing me is a really, really bad idea."

"Oh yeah?" the Master replied, raising his screwdriver and aiming it methodically at Hart's head. "From where I'm standing it seems like an excellent idea!"

"Not if you want to get out of here, it isn't."

The Master snorted derisively. "I didn't have much trouble getting in. I don't see getting out as much of a problem."

"Maybe not," Hart said. "Except that everything just changed. Listen."

Not far away, they heard the deep sonorous noise of a horn blowing, the clarion-clear notes hanging in the still morning air.

"Oh, don't tell me," Tejana spoke up, rolling her eyes. "From what I know of this planet so far, that just has to be the Awesome Horn of Untold Doom, right?"

Hart laughed. "Actually, Princess, it's Lord Ivrium arriving to collect his new pleasure slave. I sent him a message yesterday, before we went to collect you from the village. In case you hadn't realised, women with red hair are as rare as hen's teeth on Mnemosyne. I bet he's just salivating all over the place at the thought of getting his hands on you. I'm afraid getting past his troop of Lordsmen won't be quite as easy as Blondie here might think. Not without my help, anyway."

"Who's Lord Ivrium?" Tejana asked sharply, the thought of being sold as a slave sending sick shivers to her stomach.

"Local government," Hart shrugged. "There are five Keeps spread across Mnemosyne, each of them ruled by a Lord. This is Lord Ivrium's part of the world. And he's all about the iron fist approach. I'm guessing he's brought at least two dozen men with him, just to keep up appearances."

Quickly, the Master crossed over to one of the graceful, arched windows and looked down at the courtyard below. Sure enough, it was full to capacity with a milling crowd of men on horse-back, all of them dressed in the dark green livery of the Lordsmen.

"See what I mean?" Hart taunted. "No way the two of you can fight your way through all of them, not even with my extra weapons. On the other hand, it's quite possible I could help you bluff your way out. Even if I can't, another gun on your side couldn't hurt, right? Either way, I'm much more valuable to you alive than dead."

"_Bluff _our way out_?_ You must be joking! You're obviously not getting enough oxygen to your brain, Hart! What makes you think we'd ever be stupid enough to trust you?" Tejana snarled. "You're sitting pretty here on this planet, _Captain_. You'd be throwing it all away by helping us escape. How could that possibly benefit you?"

"Everything's always about you, isn't it, Princess?" he returned with a saintly look of exaggerated patience. "You never even bothered to ask me what I was doing on this one-horse planet."

"Maybe because I don't care!"

"That last little tussle with Gray damaged my wrist-strap," Hart continued, ignoring her hostile outburst. "The energy cell in the vortex manipulator burnt out. I'm trapped here until I can find a source of time-energy to recharge it. And I'm _bored_ – there are thousands of world out there, glittering with wonder. I should be out there, making mischief, not stuck here doing the same old thing over and over again. I want out."

"And you want to use our TARDIS to recharge your energy cell?" the Master asked coldly.

"Not just a pretty face, are you, Blondie?"

Tejana crossed to the Master and grasped his arm. "Don't do any deals with him, Koschei. You can't trust him. He's a compulsive liar."

The Master nearly smiled at that, looking down at the concern in her lovely face. The Doctor's daughter warning him, Gallifrey's most infamous son, that someone else was not to be trusted – the very idea was loaded with irony. It was incredible how far they had come in such a short time.

"I'm not sure we have a choice, Ana," he replied, putting his hand over hers reassuringly. "Right now, we don't have much to lose."

Outside, they could hear the march of booted feet in the corridor, approaching the open doors. Their window of opportunity was closing fast.

"Decision time, kids," Hart said in a taunting undertone. "Deal...or no deal?"

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><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: Ah, the eternal dilemma, to team up or not to team up? And is Captain John Hart to be trusted? Or perhaps the more relevant question should be, is the Master to be trusted ;)? What do you think?<strong>_

**_NB. Any further comments you might have about how I'm doing with John's character as I go on would be very helpful and much appreciated. XXX_  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hello everyone! Big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter:- Catelly, padmay97, Guessswho, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx, Bad Dog No Biscuit, Romana-II, The Mouse's Rose, iLuvTwiBoyz, Lost Moon, Aietradaea (x 2), tree1138, OhTex, crazychika495, Astra68, Geraldine, missawesome1213, babybluepineapple, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, SlytherinPrincess123, iDestiny, Dryu and Lostykitty._**

**_To Dryu - Aw, thanks very much, that is so sweet - very glad you are enjoying!_**

**_Big wave to Lostykitty, my new reviewer - so glad to know you are on board!_**

**_Bit of news to report - firstly, I have some more brilliant fan-art. SlytherinPrincess123 has drawn the most amazing picture of the Master and the newly-regenerated Tejana for this story. I'm still stunned by how gorgeous the Master turned out! So, if you haven't seen it, sclep right on over to my Profile Page where there's a link and check it out. Please do leave her some feedback, either her or on her DeviantArt page, as she is a new young artist starting out and needs to know just how awesome she is!_**

**_Secondly, I've started another story (which is actually a kiriban for SlytherinPrincess123) starring Ten and Tejana, set just after the DW epsiode "Waters of Mars" and before "End of Time", when they travel by themselves for a while - it's called "Just One Trip", and it's a plot bunny that has been biting at me for quite a long time, so I finally just had to write it. So I would appreciate it if anyone would like to check it out and tell me what you think!_**

**_Think that's all for now...here's the chapter - I've procrastinated writing it for long enough, so hope it's OK!  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER NINE<strong>

"Deal," the Master said tersely.

"Good to see at least one of you has some brains as well as looks," Hart responded, flicking a mocking glance at Tejana, which she promptly returned with a look of acute dislike. "I'm liking you more every minute, Blondie."

"Yeah, well the feeling's not mutual!" the Master growled. "And just remember, one false move and you won't be around to see how this turns out, because I'll make very sure you're the first one of us to die."

"Fine, believe me, I get it," Hart said in a surly voice. "So, can I get up now? They're coming. And I'll need my weapons, or they're going to suspect something."

The Master hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowed. But then, as the sound of marching feet outside grew louder, he stepped back, silently gesturing for Hart to rise.

"Koschei, I don't like this," Tejana interjected urgently, watching as Hart climbed gingerly to his feet and moved to reclaim his weapons, carefully favouring his injured leg as he went. She could see the clear logic behind the Master's decision, but her instinctive distrust of Hart was impossible to overcome.

"Just stay close to me, Ana," the Master told her. "And don't worry, we'll be fine. Getting out of tight corners is my speciality."

"All you have to do is to play along with whatever I say," Hart ordered in an undertone, his voice suddenly hard and business-like as the green-dressed Lordsmen began to pour through the door. "Just do your best to keep up, OK?"

_Do our best to keep up indeed! Patronising git! _Tejana heard the Master's voice fuming in the back of her head. _Who does he think he's talking to? _ _I was taking over planets centuries before he was even born!_

To her immense relief, she realised that her connection to the psychic link had finally been restored, at least over this short distance. In the midst of her anxiety, it was definitely comforting to feel her mind slotting together so perfectly with the Master's once more, a warm sensation of being back where she belonged.

_Just don't ever turn your back on him, Koschei, whatever you do, _she warned.

The Lordsmen were busy lining up in two long rows, like a guard of honour. Then a small, officious-looking herald in scarlet livery appeared in the doorway.

"His Imperial Highness, Lord Ivrium of the Keep of Kalinmere," he announced formally, before performing a sweeping bow and backing away from the entrance, his back still bent. A tall man, wearing a many-pointed iron crown and opulent robes of orange and purple silk, strode through the door. He had long, brown curls that reached past his shoulders, gleaming in the sunlight as though they had been treated with exotic oils and perfumes. He held himself proudly, gazing haughtily around the room as if he was expecting a round of applause.

_This Ivrium might call himself a lord, _Tejana thought, reading the petulant, self-satisfied expression on the man's face. _But he thinks of himself as a king._

Walking between his guard of honour, Lord Ivrium advanced majestically into the room. He was closely followed by a substantial retinue - two heavily armed men, obviously personal body guards; a group of six youths all dressed in rich clothing, who appeared to be lesser noblemen of some sort; and, bringing up the rear, a dainty, fluttering group of beautiful women, all attired in raiment even more transparent and revealing than Tejana's, their every movement designed to sensually entice and enthral.

Hart stepped forward to welcome the newcomers, a smooth smile creasing his face.

"My Lord," he said unctuously, bowing deeply. "So good of you to grace us with your presence. I trust your journey was a pleasant one?"

Knowing Hart as well as she did, the blatant insincerity in his tone could not have been more apparent to Tejana. But Ivrium did not appear to notice anything out of place. From the self-satisfied look on his face, she guessed that he was so used to constant obeisance and shallow flattery from everyone around him that he had come to expect and even enjoy it.

"Captain," he responded, in an icy, imperious voice. "How are you, my friend? It has been far too long." Then his pale eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on the Captain's torn and blood-stained trousers. "But perhaps I have arrived at a bad time. You are injured?"

"A mere scratch, I can assure you," Hart replied. "Sustained during a training session."

A knowing smile flitted across Ivrium's face. "Ah, yes, I suppose one must stay fit, in your profession. Chasing after beautiful women must take its toll."

The group of young noblemen snickered at this, joining in sycophantically with the joke. Hart nodded diplomatically, contempt hidden behind his eyes. "Indeed, my Lord," he murmured.

But Ivrium's attention had already wandered away from Hart, past the Master, whom he ignored, and towards Tejana. "Speaking of beautiful women, I assume this is my new slave," he remarked, his eyes travelling over her slowly and intimately, his gaze full of cold sexual appraisal. Tejana felt sick with disgust. She had seen eyes like that before, long ago on Gallifrey, when Councillor Rohan had looked at her – eyes that saw her not as a person, but as a potential plaything, to be sexually used at will and then cast aside. She had a sudden urge to hit Ivrium in the face, to punch and keep on punching until all the anger and bitterness had drained away from inside her, like the discharge from an infected wound. Beside her, she felt the Master tense with all-consuming rage, rocking subtly on the balls of his feet, his grip tightening on the laser screwdriver concealed in his hand. John Hart shot them both a sidelong look of warning.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but there has been a mistake," he began, trying to keep the suddenly explosive situation under control. "This slave is not for sale."

"A mistake?" Ivrium said, sliding his gaze back up Tejana's body to her face and locking his eyes with hers. "Oh no, Captain, there has been no mistake. This is the one I want. She is exquisite. I can see she has a fire inside her to match her hair. I shall enjoy breaking her."

With that, he reached out toward the silver clasps on Tejana's shoulders, with the clear intent of removing her garment altogether and stripping her naked for a closer inspection. But before he could complete the action, he found his wrist caught in a ruthless, crushing grip of iron.

"Are you deaf?" the Master bit out, his tone laced with deadly venom. "He _said_, she's not for sale!"

The air was suddenly electric, pulsating with raw, challenging male energy. A communal gasp of shock crackled through the gathered assembly and there was a ringing rasp of steel as the bodyguards drew their blades, swinging them up to rest snugly under the Master's chin. A look of absolute fury flared across Ivrium's features. It was very obvious that he was not accustomed to defiance.

_Koschei, don't! _Tejana cried mentally, her stomach clenching with fear for him.

Feeling the bite of steel against his neck, the Master slowly and deliberately relaxed his grasp on Ivrium's wrist, allowing it to fall away. But his eyes glittered dangerously, the desire to kill still written in every line of his body.

"How_ dare_ you?" Ivrium hissed in outrage.

"You'll have to forgive my new business partner, my Lord," Hart intervened swiftly. "He's not from around here and his social graces are somewhat lacking."

"Your new business partner?" the Lord echoed, his voice still tight with anger.

"Yeah. His name is..." There was an infinitesimal pause, as Hart realised he could not introduce the Master using his real name. "...Captain Jack Harkness."

At any other time, Tejana would have laughed at the incredulous look the Master flicked towards the other man. With his usual unerring nose for trouble, Hart had picked the one name in the Universe that was least likely to calm the Time Lord's rage.

Ivrium studied the Master's face with intent suspicion. "So...another Captain..."

"Yeah, how about that? What are the odds?" the Master replied sarcastically.

"He comes from the Keep of Tharlassia," Hart hurried to add. "My brother's wife's second cousin once removed. Family, eh? What can you do? And the woman belongs to him, so he tends to get a bit possessive of her – as I'm sure you will understand, now that you've seen her."

Ivrium paused for a moment. Then he nodded at his bodyguards and they lowered their swords. "I do indeed understand," he said with an air of cunning. "And of course, Captain Harkness, _you_ will understand that, as a visitor to my Keep, I will need to check your papers of ownership relating to this slave. I trust they are all in order?"

Tejana saw Hart's eyes widen slightly and realised with a sinking feeling that he had not banked on this contingency. From the gleam of triumph in Ivrium's expression, she guessed that if they could not prove the Master's ownership of her, as lord of the land he would legally be able to take possession of her himself. Watching in growing alarm, she could almost see Hart's mind racing as he desperately tried to think of an explanation for the absence of any documentation.

But before he could say anything, the Master shrugged calmly and reached into his pocket, producing a small leather wallet and handing it to Ivrium. "It's all here."

Tejana stared at the other Time Lord in astonishment. _ But...that's the Doctor's psychic paper, _she exclaimed silently. _You STOLE the Doctor's psychic paper? You're unbelievable, Koschei!_

_Hey, he stole our temporal limiter, _the Master replied, his mental voice unrepentant. _Turn about is fair play._

_But he gave the temporal limiter back!_

_Yeah, and I'll give the psychic paper back...sometime..._

Ivrium flipped the wallet open and read the contents with close attention, his brow furrowed in disappointment at the failure of his plan. "Yes, this does appear to confirm your ownership," he admitted reluctantly, handing it back to the Master. "So, it seems you and I must discuss business, Captain Harkness. I want this woman. So name your price."

The Master did not hesitate. "No."

"Come now, Captain," Ivrium tried again, keeping his voice level with an obvious effort. "All things have their price. I'm sure we can reach an agreement."

"There will be no agreement," the Master answered inflexibly. "She belongs to me. End of discussion."

Ivrium went pale with fury and amazement, his eyes flaming wildly, as though he was prepared to take any risk to gain possession of Tejana. It had gone well beyond a mere business transaction now – it had become a challenge to his authority. His gaze flickered towards his soldiers, as if he was considering giving the order to have the Master killed on the spot. But then, he seemed to pull himself together, regaining his self-command. He was the ruler of this part of the land. His role was supposed to be to uphold the law. He could not be seen to break it himself, for his own personal gain – not openly like this, anyway.

"Very well," he acceded coldly. "As you wish." His attention moved back to Hart. "Captain, it appears I have travelled a very long way for nothing. I hope that you are able to provide my court with refreshment and accommodation."

"Of course, my Lord," Hart bowed. "A feast is being prepared as we speak. And should any of the other slave-girls in the stronghold take your fancy, please let me know, and I will present her to you as a gift."

"A generous offer," Ivrium said, inclining his head graciously. "I thank you, my friend."

Hart clapped his hands sharply and a multitude of slaves, both male and female, entered through the door, carrying a large number of huge silken pillows, which were artfully strewn about the room, transforming it into a luxurious bower. Ivrium and his nobles took their places, reclining on the cushions, each of them attended by their pleasure slaves. Ivrium was accompanied by a tall, slender, generously-proportioned blonde woman, wearing nothing but a few scraps of diaphanous silk. Obviously, this was his current favourite. She glared icily at Tejana as she passed, like a dog defending its territory, warning off her rival.

_Don't worry, sister, _Tejana thought wryly, her knees weak with relief that the confrontation had been resolved peacefully. _Believe me, he's all yours, with my blessing._

_It isn't over, _the Master told her abruptly. _He hasn't given up. He's going to try and provoke me into doing something stupid so he has an excuse to kill me._

Tejana tensed again. _How do you know?_

The Master grinned sardonically. _Because that's exactly what I would do_.

At that moment, Ivrium's hooded gaze swung towards them, almost as if he sensed their silent conversation. "You will join us, of course, Captain Harkness?" The tone of his voice made it clear that it was a command, not an invitation. He indicated the empty cushion beside him.

The Master exchanged a glance with Hart, who gave him an imperceptible nod. Together, they moved to sit down, one on each side of Ivrium. Tejana followed in the Master's wake, kneeling subserviently behind him, her eyes downcast in imitation of the other pleasure slaves, much as it galled her pride to do it. She couldn't help reflecting that this was her fault. If it wasn't for her and her stupid post-regeneration craving for eggs, neither of them would be in this situation. So she would just have to - what was that peculiar Earth saying that Jack used all the time? _Suck it up_? - and do whatever it took to get them out of here and back to the TARDIS.

A quartet of musicians entered the room and began to play some haunting, sensuous music. They were followed by more slaves bearing huge platters of food and ornate goblets of wine. As the feast began, Tejana soon realised that the men were not expected to feed themselves. Instead, it was the task of the pleasure slave to select choice morsels from the platters and place them directly in the mouths of their masters. Inwardly fuming at the humiliation, she picked up a bunch of grapes and resentfully pulled one off the stalk, before offering it to the Master.

A pair of wicked brown eyes met hers, dancing with sudden amusement. _Aren't you going to peel it?_

Tejana felt her temper rise. But then, conscious of the enemies all around them watching her, she bit her lip and forced herself to smile sweetly. _You're really going to make the most of this, aren't you? _she asked, obediently peeling the grape and placing it in his mouth.

_Let's just say, it's the smallest part of the payback I'm going to demand for chasing you all over this crappy little planet, _he promised, his gaze suddenly intent. A delicate shiver went through Tejana as she felt the erotic warmth of his mouth closing around her fingertips. She flushed and pulled her hand away, keeping her eyes averted from him, trying to ignore the quiver of desire he had ignited inside her. Now was most definitely not the time or the place!

Apparently, however, not everyone shared her inhibitions. As the feast went on and the wine flowed more freely, the men began to openly caress their pleasure slaves, the women clinging to them in unashamed surrender. The music grew louder and several of Ivrium's slaves began to dance, their movements enticing and voluptuous, designed to entice and stimulate the senses. Tejana didn't consider herself to be a prude in any way – it would be a bit hard to be, living with the Master – but the ribald atmosphere in the room still shocked her and made her feel extremely uncomfortable. It was well on the way to becoming a full-on orgy. Needless to say, Captain John Hart was in his element, with a woman on each side, both of them amorously embracing him at the same time. Lord Ivrium busied himself with the blonde slave in his arms, but the whole time, even as he stroked the other woman, his eyes were fixed hungrily on Tejana, making her feel decidedly ill.

The Master also didn't appear to appreciate the other man's stare, because he picked Tejana up and swung her lightly into his lap, his hand resting protectively on her bare leg.

_Don't you even think about touching me in public, _she warned him. _I don't care what charade we're playing, I'm not doing that!_

_In that case, sit still, _he replied tersely. _Otherwise, with you dressed like that, I mightn't be able to help myself._

Sure enough, she could feel his body harden beneath her, communicating without words how much he wanted her. Despite the indignity of her current situation, she couldn't help feeling a small glow of pleasure that she could affect him so strongly. She also couldn't resist giving one, tiny experimental wriggle.

_Ana! _he growled.

_Sorry, _she responded with impish innocence.

_You will be, in a minute!_

At that moment, Lord Ivrium rose to his feet. The music ceased abruptly and the slave-girls stopped dancing. Ivrium glanced over at Hart, his eyes suddenly hard and challenging.

"My slave-girls have entertained you, my friend. Now, by the laws of hospitality, you must return the favour."

Hart nodded lazily, slouching back between his women, an obliging smile on his face. "Of course. I'll just summon some dancing girls."

"No need," Ivrium replied tightly. "As your honoured guest, custom dictates it is my right to choose who shall dance for me."

He turned and pointed imperiously at Tejana.

"And I choose her."


	10. Chapter 10

**_Author's Note: Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers for the last chapter - MayFairy, padmay97, mericat, SlytherinPrincess123, Romana-II, klinicallyinsanekoschei, Aietradaea, xxTeam-Masterxx, babybluepineapple, Astra68, Bad Dog No Biscuit, irishartemis, Geraldine, BiggerontheInside95, OhTex, crazychika495, and tree1138._**

**_ If you guys keep reviewing like this, I can't help but write faster, it really does spur me along, so thanks again._**

**_Speaking of which, I have another new chapter of "Just One Trip" up as well - I don't seem to be getting very many reviews at all for that one, so I would appreciate it if people could have a look and R & R. Don't you folks like Ten?_**

**_Okey doke, here's the next chapter...  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TEN<strong>

"_And I choose her!"_

Tejana froze, staring in disbelief at Lord Ivrium's smug face. All at once, an incredible blast of white rage detonated through her mind – rage that wasn't hers. She felt the Master's hands tighten on her in absolute fury.

_Dance? He wants you to DANCE! That son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant!_

Tejana shivered involuntarily at the menace in his voice, suddenly more frightened by the other Time Lord than by Ivrium and his entire army. It was a long time since she had seen the Master this angry, the implacable, unreasoning darkness swarming through him in an unstoppable tide. If Ivrium's aim had been to provoke him, the foolish human had succeeded only too well in the method he had chosen. In the Gallifreyan language, the words 'dance' and 'sex' were extremely similar, almost interchangeable, depending on the context in which they were used. Indeed, among the young Time Lords in the Academy, asking someone to 'dance' had often been a clear statement of sexual intent. For Ivrium to request her to dance for him, in these clothes, in this environment, in the presence of the man who was her lifemate...by Gallifreyan standards, the insult to both of them was unforgivable.

_Koschei, don't! This is exactly what he wants!_

She knew she could dance if she had to. She and Tegan Jovanka had once spent three whole weeks confined in the harem quarters of Suleiman the Magnificent, back on Earth in 1542, while the Fifth Doctor and Turlough had assisted the court in unmasking a murderer whose crimes had threatened to bring down the entire Ottoman Empire. Tegan had been furious at the sexist regime, but Tejana had found herself becoming curious about the sequestered lives of the harem women and had passed the time learning as much about them as she could, including many of their erotic dances. The very idea of dancing in that way before Ivrium and his court disgusted her right down to her very core, but if that was what it took to save the Master's life, she was willing to do that and more.

Unfortunately, the decision didn't rest with her. Before she could slam up her mental barriers, the Master had read her thoughts and seen her memories of the harem. The power of his fury was indescribable – Tejana had never felt anything like it before.

_If that's what he wants, then that's exactly what he'll get, _he snarled, sliding her to the ground and rising to his feet, pushing her firmly behind him.

His eyes fixed on Ivrium with cold hatred, one word slicing through the tense air like a blade. "No."

Confident in his superiority of numbers, Ivrium raised his eyebrows arrogantly. "No? Captain Harkness, you realise that by refusing, you break the laws of hospitality? That is an arrestable offence. This is your last chance – order the woman to dance, or suffer the consequences."

"You can go straight to hell and take your laws of hospitality with you," the Master bit out, tensing in readiness, his laser screwdriver held in his hand. Not for the first time, he reminded Tejana of a black panther, beautiful, graceful and deadly, born and raised to kill. His adamant refusal drew another gasp of astonishment from Ivrium's court, instantly stifled. Impending violence seemed to hang over the room like an invisible thunderstorm. Ivrium's bodyguards leapt to stand in front of their Lord. The pleasure slaves cringed backwards, as if seeking protection from their owners.

Ivrium smiled fiercely, convinced he had the Master exactly where wanted him. "Very well, then, on your head be it. Lordsmen, arrest that man!" he ordered. "And if he resists – kill him."

John Hart stumbled to his feet in a befuddled manner, wavering drunkenly back and forth. "Jus' a minute...no need for trouble..." he protested ineffectually.

Tejana shot him a look of contempt as the Lordsmen began to close in on the Master. _So much for an extra gun_, she thought bitterly. _I knew we couldn't rely on him._

The Master's laser screwdriver began to sing, dealing out death all around them. The first rush of Lordsmen fell together, twitching and writhing to the ground, casualties of their own enthusiasm. Glancing about frantically, Tejana saw the knife the other Time Lord had thrown earlier, still embedded in a beam behind her. Backing up, she leapt high and managed to retrieve it, hefting the hilt until it felt comfortable in her hand. Once, she would never even have contemplated touching such a weapon, let alone using it on another living creature. But that had been before the Time War, before working for Torchwood...and, most of all, before the Master. Without giving a single thought or regret to how much she had changed, or how much of herself she had lost, she went to take her place beside him, ready to fight. Because, for better or for worse, she understood now that, for every person, there were some things that went far beyond the greater good, things that you would do anything to preserve. And for her, that thing was, and now always would be, the Master.

The Lordsmen had apparently learned their initial lesson and had begun using heavy iron shields to deflect the blasts from the screwdriver. Even though they were still sustaining casualties, by skilfully utilising this protection the soldiers were managing to edge closer and closer.

_Oh gods, there are too many of them, _Tejana thought despairingly. _We're not going to make it._

As if to confirm her anxiety, Ivrium shouted, "I advise you to surrender, Captain Harkness. You are surrounded. There is no way out!"

His only answer was a renewed barrage from the laser screwdriver. Captain John Hart gave a loud hiccup and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he lurched forward to stand next to Ivrium. Standing with their shields held defensively in front of the Lord, the two bodyguards glanced warily back at him. But then, clearly deciding he was too drunk to be any sort of threat, they returned their attention to the escalating fight with the Master. Hart's eyes fixed blearily on the battle. "That's not sh...sh..strickly...true, you know," he slurred, flinging his arm amicably around Ivrium's shoulders. "There ish...one other way."

Ivrium flicked the inebriated man a look of disgust, shrinking distastefully away from his touch. "Indeed, my friend. And what way would that be?"

Hart's eyes glinted, suddenly as hard and as sharp as diamonds. "Me!" he hissed, all pretence of drunkenness falling away. All at once, far too quickly for Ivrium to counter, there was a sharp blade at his throat, his arms brutally restrained in an unbreakable hold behind his back. "Now..._my friend_...call off the attack!"

Ivrium gave a choked noise of pure horror. His bodyguards spun around, ready to defend him, but it was far, far too late.

"Uh uh uh!" John warned them in a sing-song voice. "Make a move and I'll kill him. A dead boss won't look too good on your resumes, you know."

"What are you doing, Captain?" Ivrium demanded in disbelief. "Are you insane?"

"Well now, that tends to depend on who you ask," Hart grinned. "And I really can't let you go around killing my business partners. It's...well, what can I say?...bad for business! Now, I won't tell you again. Call. Off. The. Attack."

"I am an imperial Lord!" Ivrium retorted with a defiance that was almost childish. "I won't give in to your threats!"

Hart's smile merely widened. "Won't you?" he crooned. Gently, almost lovingly, he slid the knife along the tender flesh of Ivrium's throat, applying just enough pressure to draw a thin red line of blood. "Are you sure?"

Hearing the implacable, emotionless threat in Hart's tone and feeling the warmth of his own blood spreading across his skin, Ivrium's nerve shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Do as he says!" he ordered shrilly, panic threading through his voice. "Stop the attack!"

Immediately, the assault on the two Time Lords ceased. Obeying Ivrium's command, the Lordsmen fell back, forming a thick cordon around the perimeter of the room. The Master glared around at them with undiminished ferocity, bloodlust still written across his face, the anger inside him still screaming for an outlet. Tejana lowered her knife, breathing a sigh of relief that she had not been required to use it.

"Blondie, Princess, over here!" Hart commanded, tightening his grip on Ivrium's arms until the Lord winced in pain.

The Master caught Tejana's hand and drew her close to him, before crossing the room towards their unlikely ally.

"So, what do you have to say now, Princess?" Hart asked. "I know, how about...?" He raised his voice to a mocking feminine falsetto. "...Thanks so much for saving my pretty little ass, John...I'm so sorry I doubted you, John...You were _wonderful_, John." Then he winked at her suggestively, before adding, "I get that last one a lot, incidentally, especially in bed."

"Why don't we just save all the back-slapping until we actually get out of here?" she retorted tartly, still unwilling to give him any credit, no matter how much he apparently deserved it.

"Oh, there'll be no problem getting out, not while we've got Glamour-Boy with us," Hart returned, pulling Ivrium's head back by his long hair. "Will there, my friend?"

"You'll pay for this!" Ivrium gritted out.

Hart gave a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, _puh-leeze_! Can none of you people _ever_ think of anything original to say? Seriously, I've heard it all before, it's so boring. 'You're on my list, Hart.' 'You're gonna regret this, Hart.' 'You'll never work in this town again, Hart.' Have I missed any out?"

Ivrium's eyes bulged in impotent affront. "You won't get far. My men will hunt you down like the dogs you are!"

The Master's gaze flicked down to fix on his face, burning a stare at him, raw, unsatisfied rage still skirling within his brown eyes. "Then they had better pray that they don't find us," he said flatly, his voice stretched taut by restraint. "Now let's go."

Hart nodded and jerked Ivrium none-too-gently to his feet. "Right, you heard the man, we're leaving," he announced loudly. "And we're taking this sack of crap with us. Anyone tries to follow us, anyone tries anything stupid, and I will happily slit his throat from ear to ear. Comprende?"

Shoving Ivrium along in front of him, he led the way, followed by Tejana, still brandishing her knife. The Master brought up the rear, covering their retreat with the laser screwdriver. The Lordsmen slowly parted like the Red Sea before them, allowing them safe passage to the door. Amongst the green-garbed men, Tejana saw Silas, the Lordsman from the village, his eyes following her bitterly. He was one of the last to fall back, reluctance at allowing them to escape written in every line of his body. Tejana had made a fool out of him in front of his men and he had not forgotten. A shiver ran across her skin, grateful to escape his probing gaze as they slipped out into the passageway. She had certainly managed to make a lot of enemies in a short time on this planet. It was not something she was used to – making enemies was usually much more the Master's style.

Once outside the room, Hart said, "Bar the door."

With some difficulty, the Master and Tejana worked together to tug the huge, heavy beam into place, effectively securing the double doors into the hall.

"That'll hold 'em for a while," Hart approved in satisfaction. "Come on, let's get to the stables. We're going to need horses to outrun them."

Dragging Ivrium with him, the knife still skimming his hostage's throat, he strode towards a nearby staircase, assuming his companions would follow him. The Master and Tejana exchanged a brief glance and then jogged after him. Whether they liked it or not, right now they needed to trust Hart. After all, by his own actions he was now as much a fugitive as they were. After a few minutes of running, Tejana had to admit she was glad of his leadership. The stronghold was like a rabbit warren, with corridors and passages heading off in every direction. However, following closely behind Hart, they threaded their way unerringly through hallway after stone hallway, always heading further down into the depths of the castle. They encountered few people and Tejana suspected that Hart was intentionally taking them through a little-frequented back route. Those they did meet up with were Hart's own people and they did not seem at all inclined to question him, even with Lord Ivrium held firmly in his grasp.

At last they reached the stables. Barking out commands, Hart ordered his own huge black stallion to be saddled and brought to him, together with two other horses.

"I take it you two _can_ ride?" he asked in an urgent undertone.

"Of course," the Master said. Tejana guessed he had learned to ride long ago, on the Oakdown Estates back on Gallifrey. He flashed an inquiring glance over his shoulder at her. "Ana?"

"Yes," she responded tightly. As a child of the Citadel, she had never had the chance to ride on Gallifrey. But when she had lived on Trion, Turlough had taught her. With a sudden ache in her hearts, she remembered galloping through the long, green meadows with Turlough at her side, the wind streaming her nut-brown tresses behind her, everything in the land so calm and peaceful and beautiful, before the Daleks had come, before the War had started...With a shake of her head, she drew in her breath sharply, fighting back the painful recollection. _Gods, where were all these old, long-buried memories coming from?_

The stable-hands brought the horses around and Hart ordered them to leave. The stable now empty except for the fugitives, he snatched down several hooded travelling cloaks from some pegs in the wall and tossed one each to the Master and Tejana.

"Best to be as anonymous as possible," he said curtly.

Tejana put hers on immediately, grateful for the concealing, black folds that fell around her body, completely covering her scanty clothing. Putting her foot in the stirrup, she swung herself expertly on to her horse's back. For a brief moment, the white mare skittered and danced, as though testing the ability of her new rider, before surrendering to the confident authority of Tejana's hands on the reins. Beside her, the Master mounted his reddish-brown stallion, a spirited brute with strong, well-formed legs. Tejana sneaked an admiring look at him from the corner of her eye. He looked good on a horse, completely at ease, somehow powerful and commanding.

They both turned to look at Hart, who was still on the ground, his knife held against Ivrium's throat.

"What are you going to do with me?" the terrified noble asked. "Are you planning to take me with you?"

Hart put his head on one side, surveying the man in mocking speculation. "Let's see now...you're very ugly. And you really ought to think about bathing more often, because you really smell – which is something I've actually been meaning to tell you for quite a while now. So, under the circumstances, I think we can probably do without your company."

With that, he picked Ivrium up by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pants and hurled him bodily into the stable wall. Dazed and bleeding from a cut on his head, the Lord slid weakly to the ground, all his arrogance long gone.

Hart chuckled and slotted his knife securely back into his boot. "Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow."

"Oh, it's going to get sweeter yet," the Master spoke up, his voice as taut as an over-stretched rope, dancing his horse in a circle. Trembling, Ivrium looked up to see the laser screwdriver pointed directly at him.

Tejana's eyes widened with a sting of apprehension. "Koschei, what are you doing?"

"Whoa, Blondie," Hart cautioned. "Much as I sympathise with the urge, it's not a good idea. The Lordsmen already have enough reason to hunt us down, without us adding to it by killing a Keep Lord."

"I see your point," the Master allowed mildly, the screwdriver lowering long enough for Tejana and Hart to relax in relief. "But there's just one problem."

Hart frowned. "What?"

The Master flicked him a look that was as cold as ice. "_I don't care._"

The screwdriver flashed in his hand, a blaze of yellow energy leaping from the triple tip and arcing towards Ivrium. The lord screamed in agony as it struck him in the chest, a long drawn-out cry of horror ripped from the very roots of his being.

_"_And, in case you were wondering, this is just to let you know that Ana doesn't _dance_ for anyone except me," the Master snarled ferally, twisting his hand so that the blast intensified, melting Ivrium's flesh, burning every bone in his body to cinders from the inside out. In the end, after it was all over, all that was left was a smoking pile of putrid-smelling ash. "_Ever_."

Tejana turned her face away and clapped her hand over her mouth, afraid she was about to vomit uncontrollably at the awful sight.

Hart's only reaction was to raise his eyebrows slightly. "Now that _had_ to hurt," he said wryly. "Hope you know what you're doing, Blondie."

As he spoke, he vaulted lightly into his saddle and urged his horse forward. "Let's go."

The Master followed without even a backward glance at the smouldering ruin he had left behind.

Tejana swallowed hard, telling herself that at least Ivrium would never make any poor woman dance for him again. But her hands were shaking as she gathered up her reins and directed her horse towards the exit, her head averted from the chilling and incontrovertible evidence that the Master had not changed and probably never would.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Author's Note: Hello everybody. Big thanks to the following people for reviewing, each and every one of you made my day - Romana-II, xxTeam-Masterxx, MayFairy, iDestiny, Aietradaea, missawesome1213 (x 2), Neo Noke, padmay97, mericat, Astra68, JoBrookes, babybluepineapple, SlytherinPrincess123, Geraldine, Lady Brid, Lost Moon (x 2), Guessswho, PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes and OhTex._**

**_Massive thanks to OhTex for being my 200th reviewer - big box of virtual cookies for you!  
><em>**

**_Big welcome especially to my new reviewers, Neo Noke, Lady Brid and PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes - so great to have you on board and I hope you continue to review!_**

**_To Lady Brid - I actually got the inspiration about the Gallifreyan word for "dance" from the episode "The Doctor Dances", where the Doctor and Rose have that whole conversation about dancing that really means something else, as follows:_**

_**Rose: I trust [Captain Jack] 'cause he's like you...except with dating and dancing.**_  
><em><strong>Doctor: You just assume I don't dance.<strong>_  
><em><strong>Rose: What, you're telling me you do dance?<strong>_  
><em><strong>Doctor: 900 years old, me, I've been around a bit. I think you can assume at some point I've danced.<strong>_  
><em><strong>Rose: You?<strong>_  
><em><strong>Doctor: Problem?<strong>_  
><em><strong>Rose: Doesn't the universe implode or something if you dance?<strong>_  
><em><strong>Doctor: Well, I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast.<strong>_

_**So I kind of extrapolated from that, as though the Doctor was finding it secretly amusing that humans didn't understand the Gallifreyan in-joke. Of course, in the different circumstances of this story, the Master didn't appreciate the "joke", LOL. Also, as you noted, after Amy and Rory's wedding, River specifically asks the Doctor if he danced and she says he always dances at weddings, because she is teasing him, tongue-in-cheek. Just another indication that River not only writes and speaks Gallifreyan, but also understands Time Lord "in-jokes" - no wonder at that point in time the Doctor is curious as to who she is. Anyway, thanks again so much for your review - it was great fun to read!**_

**_Okey doke, after that lengthy introduction (sorry) - here's the actual chapter.  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER ELEVEN<strong>

Riding in a tight group, the fugitive threesome galloped at full speed out of the main gates of the stronghold, the hooves of their horses thundering across the wooden drawbridge.

"Where to?" Hart yelled over his shoulder. "Where's your TARDIS?"

"In the wheat fields, just beyond the village," the Master responded.

"We'll have to go cross country, they'll be looking for us on the road," Hart said, wheeling his horse towards the nearby fringe of trees at the edge of the forest. "Let's ride!"

Even as she veered around to follow him, Tejana eyed him with disfavour. He hadn't been kidding about being bored on Mnemosyne. She could tell he was enjoying this whole thing. From the subterfuge in the hall of the stronghold, to their bloody fight for escape, to their dramatic bid for freedom, to the murder of Ivrium, he had revelled in it all. Tejana could almost see the fierce excitement racing through his veins, sending him higher than any drug ever could. He was an adrenaline-junkie, a thrill seeker, never happier than when he was living life on the edge. And she didn't trust him, not one bit. The idea of allowing him anywhere near the TARDIS still rankled with her, filling her with a deep uneasiness.

She flicked a look across to the Master, riding beside her, but then pulled her gaze away before he could catch her eye. She had pulled her mental shields up to capacity, so that he could not speak to her or even touch her mind with his. Right now, she wanted nothing to do with him, not until she had somehow come to terms with his cold-blooded murder of Lord Ivrium. She knew she should be furiously angry. Whatever Ivrium had done, however base and disgusting he had been as a person, for the Master to kill him like that – for him to act as judge, jury and executioner all rolled into one – had been wrong, so awfully, horribly wrong. In that one murderous moment, he had once again become the frightening, psychopathic Master she remembered so clearly from her girlhood. She shivered, thinking of the look on his face, so hard and implacable, without a shred of pity or mercy.

Tejana knew without a doubt what the Doctor would have to say about the incident – he would have been horrified, sickened and infuriated. He had brought her up to believe that killing in any form was to be abhorred. His point of view had always been so clear cut, so black and white, with no exceptions or allowances. But Tejana wasn't the Doctor and for her it suddenly wasn't that simple.

She lowered her head as she rode, her thoughts churning in confusion. The scene kept playing over and over in her head, the Master raising the screwdriver, the lethal, killing blast arcing unstoppably towards Ivrium. But in her mind's eye, it wasn't Ivrium's face she saw twisting in unbearable agony, but Lord Rohan's. Nausea rose in her throat as she remembered the depraved, vile things that sick pervert had done to her, the innocence he had stolen when she was just a child, when she had been alone and vulnerable and unable to fight back. Back then, there had been no-one to stop him, no-one to help her, no-one to save her. But that wasn't true any more. She would never be helpless again. Whatever else he was, however cold and sadistic and ruthless, the Master loved her. For the very first time, it dawned on her that he would always put her first. He would always come for her - he would stop at nothing to destroy anyone who threatened her, to punish anyone who harmed her, even to tear the Universe in two if that was what was needed to protect her. And, even though she knew it was morally wrong, she couldn't help feeling a warm glow of evanescent joy deep inside, a sense of comfort and security she had never had before.

She didn't know what to think any more, her mind trapped in a spinning whirlpool as she tried to make sense of her own conflicting feelings, recognising for the first time the shameful, hidden darkness that lurked inside her hearts. Oh gods, was she secretly _glad _the Master had killed Ivrium for her, just as she wished he had been there to slay Rohan all those years ago? And if so, what did that mean? _What the hell was she becoming?_

* * *

><p>The Master watched Tejana carefully out of the corner of his eye. The hood of her cloak was pushed back now that they were clear of the stronghold, her glorious copper hair flowing freely behind her like ripples of fire. She rode well, her slender body moving as one with her mount, her hands competent and relaxed on the reins. He wondered who had taught her – whoever it was, they had done a good job.<p>

He saw her slant a swift look across at him and then withdraw her gaze just as quickly, spurring her horse onward so that she pulled just ahead of him. He tried to connect with her mind, but her psychic doors were firmly closed against him. She had no intention of letting him in. He was irritated, but not surprised. He had known all along that she would be angry with him for killing Ivrium. Ordinarily, he would never have killed in front of her like that. Instead he would have thought of some other way to achieve his goal, without her knowledge. After all, what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. But in this instance, he had been far too angry. In her mind, he had seen her memories of the sensual dances she had learnt in Suleiman's harem and the very thought of allowing her to perform like that, half-naked, with Ivrium's lust-filled eyes crawling over her...the deadly, possessive rage had seethed inside him like boiling hot lava, the pressure building and building until it had culminated in an inevitable eruption of reprisal. However angry she was about it now, whatever the repercussions, he still wasn't sorry – he would do it all over again if he could, with pleasure. He was Tejana's lifemate. She had given him her true name – now she would need to learn that protecting her was his _right_, no matter how he chose to do it.

As they got deeper into the forest, the trees became thicker and it was more and more difficult to ride. They were following a track of sorts, but it wound through the trees and, in places, was extremely overgrown with bracken and brambles. The horses were forced to slow almost to a walk. Overhead, the sun was beginning to sink into late afternoon. Under the over-arching canopy of leaves, the air was slightly cooler than out in the open, but still stifling and humid. The light was dim and green, the ground dappled with the occasional splash of golden sunlight seeping through the branches.

The Master could feel frustration gnawing at him. He didn't like this planet at all. He constantly felt trickles of apprehension crawling up his spine, a sensation he had learned long ago not to ignore – it had saved his life more than once. All he wanted to do was to find the TARDIS and get the hell out of here. Right now, however, he had no idea where they were. Much as it irked him to travel this slowly, he had no option but to assume that Hart knew what he was doing and to rely on him to get them back to the place they had left the time machine. As to what happened to Hart after that, the Master had not yet quite decided.

At last they came to a secluded clearing crossed by a small, sparkling stream. Bringing his horse to a halt, Hart jumped down and used his wrist-strap to scan the water.

"It's sweet," he said. "Fill your waterskins. I don't want you getting dehydrated in this humidity."

With that he reached for the empty waterskin hanging from his own saddle and proceeded to dip it into the gushing brook.

Tejana frowned. "How long until we reach the village?"

"We won't be there before nightfall," Hart shrugged. "We're taking a roundabout route, but it's a lot better than getting caught by a bunch of angry Lordsmen out for blood. They'll have found Ivrium by now. Thanks to Blondie, we're now officially public enemies one, two and three."

"I hope for your sake you're not trying to pull anything," the Master warned, dismounting from his horse as he spoke. "Otherwise your friends the Lordsmen will be finding another body."

"Considering the amount of hot water I've just got myself into for you two, a little trust would be nice," Hart said in tones of mock hurt.

Tejana tossed her head and made a contemptuous noise. "Don't hold your breath." Without looking at the Master, she slid to the ground and walked across to the stream to fill her waterskin. He studied her face as she passed him, trying to gauge her mood. It wasn't quite as easy for him to read her body language now she had regenerated. He was going to have to learn the signs all over again. Surprisingly, from what he could tell, she didn't look particularly angry – instead, her expression seemed anxious and distracted, her attention directed inwardly, as though she was wrestling with some sort of dilemma. The Master took a deep, irritable breath and turned to detach his own waterskin from his saddle. No doubt, whatever it was, he would find out about it soon enough.

Without warning, his mind seemed to slip, like an old-fashioned record jumping a groove. He could still hear Hart talking to Tejana, but the sound was rapidly fading, as though he was being sucked into an endless vacuum, time spinning backwards...

"_Are you sure this is a good idea, Theta?"_

"_Of course it's a good idea, Koschei. I thought of it, didn't I?"_

"_But if we're caught..."_

"_Don't worry, we won't be caught!"_

_He followed his blonde friend reluctantly, watching over his shoulder the whole time, praying they were not being observed. It was all right for Theta, no-one cared much what he did. But if Lord Oakdown ever came to hear that his only son and heir was sneaking out of the Citadel to visit Low Town...Koschei couldn't even bear to think of how great the consequences would be._

"_Remind me again why we're doing this?" he hissed as they furtively made their way towards the motley collection of dwellings huddled together like shabby, orphan children, just outside the protective perimeter of the magnificent Dome of the Citadel._

"_Research!" Theta tossed back over his shoulder. "Aren't you curious about how they live?"_

"_Theta, they're only Shabogans! Who CARES how they live?"_

"_So speaks the high-and-mighty heir of Oakdown," Theta mocked, a hint of reproof in his steady blue eyes._

"_I meant that they're hardly worth getting expelled over!" Koschei retorted defensively._

"_We won't get expelled, I promise. Now stop moaning and run, will you?"_

_At last they gained the relative safety of the streets of Low Town, out of sight of the Citadel, much to Koschei's relief. As he had suspected, there wasn't much to see – just a tangle of muddy laneways, tumble-down houses and ragged, shifty-looking people. This was the home of the Shabogans, the fringe dwellers, the outcasts and dregs of Gallifreyan society. In their neat Academy tunics and trousers, Koschei and Theta stood out amongst the denizens of Low Town like the proverbial sore toe. Typically, Theta seemed completely oblivious to the hostile stares they were receiving. While Koschei shrank down into the collar of his jacket, trying to make himself smaller and less conspicuous, Theta strode along happily, merely returning the unfriendly looks with a good-natured grin or a casual greeting._

"_Wow, this place is amazing!" he said excitedly._

"_You think?" Koschei grunted, stepping warily aside as a filthy man with an eye-patch and a limp walked past them, carrying something in a sack over his shoulder that squirmed horribly._

"_So different from the Citadel. It's like a whole other world!"_

_Glancing down at the mud caked on his leather boots, Koschei couldn't help giving a wry grimace. "On that much we agree," he said grimly._

_Theta turned and looked at him, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a small, frustrated shake. "Come ON, Koschei, lighten up, would you? This is just a start. One day, you and I are going to leave Gallifrey. We're going to fly free among the stars together – we're going to see hundreds of other places, other planets, other peoples...just imagine it, all the things we're going to do! The possibilities are endless!"_

_Koschei returned his friend's enraptured gaze, an unwilling smile spreading across his face. Theta was such a dreamer. Koschei knew quite well that none of the things he rambled about could ever happen. One didn't just leave Gallifrey, to travel on a whim, it wasn't permitted. But sometimes, listening to Theta talk, it almost seemed possible, the shining dream almost within reach._

"_Together, huh?" he said, punching his friend lightly on the arm. "You and me."_

_Theta grinned, pleased he had managed to soften Koschei's dark mood. "Of course. We're best friends. Who else would I want to share the wonders of the Universe with?"_

_But even as he looked into Theta's affectionate blue eyes, the drums in Koschei's head – the cursed, unremitting, incessant, bloody drums that never, ever stopped pounding - seemed to grow louder and more painful. His smile slid away, retreating back into the inner darkness he was finding more and more difficult to shake these days. "Are you done here now?" he asked curtly. "Because I want to get back before someone misses us."_

_Theta blinked, a bit taken aback by his sudden change in tone. "Sure," he said with a shrug. "There's just one more thing I want to try."_

_Koschei rolled his eyes impatiently. "What's that?"_

"_In here," Theta replied, leading the way to a rough-looking building with a wooden sign hanging out the front._

"_Theta, that's a tavern!"_

"_Exactly!" Theta exclaimed, pushing open the door and disappearing inside. Gritting his teeth, Koschei followed. Inside, the tavern was dark and smoky, the ceiling criss-crossed with low, blackened wooden beams, the floor unevenly paved with worn flagstones. A blazing fire roared in a huge stone hearth, reflections of the flames dancing like devils across the walls. The atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. Koschei could feel huge droplets of sweat gathering between his shoulders and dripping wetly down his back. A dozen coarsely-dressed men sat around the room on crude benches, quaffing huge tankards of ale, talking in loud, raucous voices and laughing boisterously. As they became aware of the two strangers in their midst, an astonished silence fell over the gathering._

_Koschei tensed automatically, the drums in his head beating out a warning tattoo. He could smell trouble brewing a mile away. This was not a good place for them to be. Unperturbed, Theta simply strolled up to the bar and grinned at the surly bar-tender._

"_Hello. My name's Theta Sigma," he said brightly, slamming a coin down on to the bar. "And I'd like a pint of your finest ale, please."_

_The bartender merely stood and stared at him, a stunned look on his face, as if a pink elephant had just walked into his bar and demanded a drink._

"_Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a voice sneered. "Two little Academy silver tails. You're a long way from home, aren't you?"_

_A tall, well-built youth with a handsome, arrogant face and close-cut dark hair stepped forward out of the shadows. A golden ring gleamed in his left ear, something Koschei had never seen before on Gallifrey. A nasty smile stretched his mouth as he advanced, deliberately encroaching on Theta's personal space. He was flanked by five other young men, all of them a couple of years older than Theta and Koschei. From the erratic, unbalanced way they were standing, it was apparent they had all been drinking heavily._

"_Just checking out how the other half live, were you?"_

"_Yes, actually," Theta said blithely, with his usual lack of tact. "It's been very interesting."_

_The older boy snarled and slammed his hand down on the bar, covering up Theta's coin. "Well, your money's no good here, pretty boy," he ground out, giving Theta a powerful shove that sent him reeling to his back on the floor. The other boys all sniggered derisively, enjoying the joke._

_Despite himself, Koschei felt his temper rising. He hadn't wanted to come here and he was the first to admit that Theta could be as annoying as hell – but he was damned if he'd just stand there and allow his friend to be pushed around by a group of filthy, drunken Shabogans._

"_What's wrong with his money?" he demanded aggressively._

"_Oh, look, his little boyfriend can talk!" the dark-haired boy jeered. "Sorry, darling, but we don't let wet-behind-the-ears mother's boys buy our grog. It's only for real men."_

_Koschei laughed scornfully, all his previous caution thrown to the wind. Suddenly he realised he had been itching for this fight for a long, long time. "Guess you're going to find it hard to sell any once we leave then. All I can see are scum-sucking vermin."_

_The other boy's eyes filled with rage. "Oh, you're really asking for it, sunshine!"_

"_Come on then, you piece of shit, give it your best shot!" Koschei taunted, beginning to circle around, clenching his fists in eager anticipation._

"_Koschei, don't!" Theta protested, climbing to his feet. "They're not worth it. Let's just go!"_

"_Koschei?" the Shabogan boy exclaimed, his gaze narrowing in sudden interest. "Not Koschei of the House of Oakdown?"_

"_Yeah. What's it to you?"_

_This time it was the other boy's turn to laugh, a nasty, grating sound devoid of any real amusement. "Only that I've been waiting to give you what you deserve for a very long time. You've got no idea who I am, do you, pretty boy?"_

"_I couldn't give a flying crap who you are. You Shabogans are all the same – low-life losers who haven't yet managed to crawl out of the primordial ooze," Koschei retorted contemptuously. "You're nothing!"_

"_Nothing, huh? Yeah, I didn't think your precious, oh-so-honourable father would tell you about me," the other boy smirked. "Figures."_

_Koschei bristled. "You leave my father out of this!"_

"_Why should I?" The boy's mouth stretched in an unholy grin. "After all, he's my father too."_

_All the colour drained from Koschei's face, his eyes widening in shock. "What the hell are you talking about?"_

"_You really don't know, do you? My name is Kelios. My mother is Aminestra, the Shabogan witch-woman, last descendant of the Pythia. Your father made my mother pregnant with me and then abandoned her, casting her aside like so much rubbish, so he could contract a grand marriage with your mother, his so-called social equal."_

"_Liar!" Koschei yelled. "Filthy liar!"_

"_Time to face the truth, Koschei," Kelios said, his face full of bitterness and hatred. "The father we share is nothing but a lecherous, cheating coward with less honour than a rutting bull in a field. I am the eldest son of the House of Oakdown, not you. But for an accident of birth, but for our gutless father refusing to acknowledge me, everything you have would have been mine. And for that, little brother, I swear before all the gods that I will destroy you!"_

_Rage exploded inside Koschei's brain. Without stopping to think, he charged the other boy like a battering ram, his fists swinging. He could hear Theta shouting his name in the distance, could sense the other five louts moving in to join their friend for the kill, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was to smash Kelios in the face, to shut his vile mouth once and for all, to wipe out the abominable lies about his father that could not, could NEVER, be true. He felt the savage blows raining down on his head and body, heard the awful mocking laughter of his assailants, felt the pain take him and drag him down into the darkness, still punching and kicking and screaming in defiance._

* * *

><p>Tejana knelt by the little stream, watching the waterskin slowly inflate as it filled in the rapid current. Scooping up some of the icy water, she splashed it on her face, enjoying the cool sensation on her heated skin. Mnemosyne might be a very beautiful place, she thought ruefully, but its hot, stultifying atmosphere was definitely unpleasant. Suddenly, for no discernible reason, a feeling of dread lanced through her. Even with her mental shields raised high, she could sense that something was very wrong. Spinning around, she searched for the Master, instinctively knowing he was the source of her unease. He had stopped still in the act of removing his waterskin from his horse's back. His body was completely unmoving, his brown eyes wide and glassy and unseeing.<p>

"Koschei!" she said urgently. "Koschei, what's the matter with you?"

When he didn't reply, she dropped her waterskin on the ground and started to run across to him, only to feel an arm fasten around her waist like a band of steel, holding her back.

"Stop!" Hart said into her ear. "Don't touch him!"

"Let me go!" she spat, struggling wildly. "What the hell do you think you're doing? There's something wrong! Let me go to him!"

"Stop fighting me and _listen_ for a second!" Hart ordered, continuing to restrain her. "How long have the two of you been on Mnemosyne?"

"This is only the second day," she responded, her alarm increasing every second. "Why? What's the matter with him? Tell me!"

"You really don't know much about this planet, do you, Princess? He's got mnemosis."

Tejana stared at him blankly. "Mnemosis?"

"The atmosphere of Mnemosyne is infected with a bacterial pathogen. When you breathe the air, you breathe it in. It causes memory regression – basically, old, forgotten memories float to the surface of your psyche and you relive them again," Hart explained tersely. "That's what's happening to him right now - he's in a catatonic state. You can't touch him or rouse him in any way. It's dangerous, like waking a sleep-walker, only much worse. The shock could completely unbalance his mind. You have to let him come out of it in his own time."

Trying desperately to process what he was saying, Tejana thought of her own recent, unexplained lapses into the past – her recollections of Damon back on Gallifrey, the hidden, secret memory of making love with Jack...suddenly, it all made sense. Slowly, she forced herself to relax in Hart's grip, allowing her muscles to loosen. If what he was saying was true, she knew she couldn't risk touching the Master, either physically or mentally.

"Will he be all right?"

"That depends," Hart replied, his face impassive. "Sometimes, facing memories they've done their best to bury sends people totally off their rockers. Some people kill themselves just to make it stop. That's why Mnemosyne doesn't tend to get too many alien visitors – funnily enough, it didn't quite make the Top Ten Tourist Spots in the Galaxy."

Tejana felt a chill of fear. The Master wasn't exactly the most stable person at the best of times. And, given the life he had lived, she hated to think what sort of buried memories were resurfacing in his brain.

"But you're OK...it doesn't seem to be affecting _you_!" she said, her tone almost accusing, as if it was Hart's fault.

"I had it when I first arrived, almost everyone does, in varying degrees. But I've been here for nearly five years now, I've built up an immunity, just like the locals," he replied. "Usually, if you can make it through the first seventy two hours, you'll be fine after that."

With an angry jerk, she pulled away from him. Confident that she had finally calmed down, he released her without protest, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Then her eyes narrowed in suspicion as another thought occurred to her. "If the locals are immune and there are no other alien visitors, how do you happen to know so much about how this pathogen affects people?"

He gave a theatrical sigh. "You never lay off, do you, Princess? I know about it because it's the reason I came here in the first place. The air of Mnemosyne is unique. I figured if I could work out a way to contain it and sell it, I'd be on to a gold mine. Until my vortex manipulator went and burnt out on me, stranding me here, that is. Now I've kind of lost interest in the idea."

"You were going to try to sell _air_?" she said incredulously.

"Why not?" he returned, giving another shrug. "A vapour with the ability to bring back lost memories? The applications are endless."

She shook her head in utter disbelief. "You're unbelievable."

"So I've been told," he grinned unrepentantly.

Tejana ignored him and returned her attention anxiously to the Master. He hadn't moved. It was eerie, almost as if he was frozen in Time. All at once, he sucked in a huge gasp of air into his lungs, reminding her uncannily of Jack returning from the dead. His eyes snapped into focus and he clutched frantically at the saddle under his hands, trying to steady himself.

"Koschei!" she cried, running across to him and slipping her arms around his waist.

He was shaking like a leaf, his gaze wild and agitated. "Ana?" he gasped, staring at her as though he was surprised to see her.

"It's OK, I'm here," she told him, stroking his hair, trying to calm him down. "I've got you."

He held her tightly to him, almost crushing her in his arms. "What's happening to me?"

"It's fine, it's going to be OK," she soothed. "Hart says there's a pathogen in the air on this planet. It's making you remember things you've forgotten. If you stay calm, it will wear off really soon."

"No!" he snarled savagely. "NO! It didn't happen like that. None of it happened like that!"

Startled by the ferocity in his tone, unsure what he was talking about, she began, "Koschei..."

"It didn't happen like that!" he insisted. "It's not a pathogen...it must be some sort of hallucinogen, making me imagine things, see things, that never happened!"

"Sorry to rain on your parade, Blondie, but this is literally the Planet of Memory," Hart interjected dryly. "If you remember it on Mnemosyne, then that's the way it really happened."

Before Tejana could do anything to stop him, the Master erupted into a hurricane of violence. Flinging himself at Hart with almost supernatural speed, he fastened his hand around the other man's throat like a vice.

"IT. DIDN'T. HAPPEN. THAT. WAY!" he screamed, his eyes turbulent and deranged, his iron grip throttling the life out of Hart bit by inexorable bit, tighter and tighter and tighter.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another author's note: In case anyone is wondering, according to the Doctor Who Wiki, it's canon that Koschei picked a fight with six drunken Shabogans when he and Theta were playing truant in Low Town - the flashback in this chapter is merely my interpretation of the reasons why it happened :)<strong>_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Author's Note: As always, thanks to the following amazing people for reviewing the last chapter - MayFairy, JoBrookes, padmay97, Catelly (x 2), xxTeam-Masterxx, Aietradaea, OhTex, Romana-II, missawesome1213, babybluepineapple, Simpa007, mericat, Lost Moon, SlytherinPrincess123, Geraldine, crazychika495 (x 2), KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Bad Dog No Biscuit and Phanpic-Addict-Holmes._**

**_ Special wave to my new reviewer, Simpa007 - glad to have you on board, very happy you are enjoying!_**

**_In response to MayFairy's question, in case anyone else was wondering, Hart knows about the TARDIS from hacking into the Torchwood records, as mentioned in Chapter Seven._**

**_Also, I've had quite a few people ask me about Tejana's memory of sleeping with Jack - if anyone is still unclear, please go back to Chapter Ten of "Return to the Valiant", it's all there. Speaking of which, the amazing Aietradaea has very kindly done another wonderful chapter on her parody fic for this series, "Time Waits for No Woman" and it's all about...drum roll...OK, you probably guessed it anyway - Chapter Ten of "Return to the Valiant". Please go and check it out, because it really is very funny! Thanks so much, Aietradaea, you are, as always, simply the best._**

**_If you like chibis (and who doesn't), go to my profile and check out the link to the gorgeous Tejana and Master chibis drawn by Ceville - thank you, Ceville, they are so cute!  
><em>**

**_And lastly, if anyone would like to see Captain John Hart trying to sell air to an unsuspecting punter, please go to this Youtube video (don't forget to remove the spaces) - http : / www . youtube . com / watch?v=7_TsPrlj7Zs  
><em>**

**_Yeah, OK, I have a weird sense of humour, I admit it! :)_**

**_Here's the chapter, hope you enjoy!  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWELVE<strong>

The Master was afraid. He knew he was out of control but he couldn't seem to stop himself. His unexpected attack had caught Hart completely by surprise. He could see his fingers tightening on the other man's neck and hear his strangled gasps for air. But none of it meant anything to him. All he could focus on was the voice of the Shabogan boy in his head, calling him "little brother", over and over again.

_No_, his brain howled in denial. It was all a lie, all a delusion. He had no brother. He had never had a brother. Paranoia crawled over his skin like a swarm of insects. This planet was trying to send him mad. _Hart _was trying to send him mad.

"IT. DIDN'T. HAPPEN. THAT. WAY!" he screamed into Hart's face.

Struggling to keep from blacking out from the vicious pressure around his throat, Hart managed to draw one of his blaster pistols and turned it until it pointed into the Master's ribs. But the Time Lord didn't even flinch, his grasp murderous and unrelenting, as determined to kill Hart now as he had been to kill Kelios in the dream. Just as Hart was about to pull the trigger, a small, jewelled sandal lashed out in a savage kick, catching him in the wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon.

Through the haze of unreality enveloping him, the Master could hear Tejana yelling furiously in the background. "Don't you _dare_ hurt him, Hart!"

"He's...hurting...ME!" Hart choked out indignantly, tearing at the Master's grip, trying to loosen it enough to enable him to breathe.

Then the Master felt her hands, cool and soft, cupping his face and tilting his head, forcing him to look down into her anxious green eyes. "Koschei, stop it! Let him go! You're killing him!" she begged. "_PLEASE!_"

Somehow, her desperate plea reached him as nothing else could, cancelling out the voices in his head, bringing him back to the present. Suddenly realising what he was doing, he managed to gather some semblance of self-control. Exerting all his willpower, he forced his hand to loosen and drop away from Hart's neck.

"It didn't happen that way," he repeated softly, flexing his fingers and frowning at them as if he had never seen them before.

"Whatever you say, Blondie! No argument here!" Hart wheezed, backing away to a position of relative safety and struggling to catch his breath, a livid red mark emblazoned across his throat just under the jaw-line. "Shit, Princess, I think you've broken my wrist! I should bloody well get paid danger money for travelling with the pair of you!"

"Shut up, Hart!" she snapped unsympathetically. "Koschei, are you all right?"

"I don't know," he replied, rubbing his shaking hands distractedly over his face. "I keep remembering things. Things I know didn't happen. Things I know _couldn't _have happened."

Tejana reached out and took his hands firmly in her own, trying to identify the source of his distress. "Let me see."

His first instinct was to refuse, his features strained and wooden with emotions he was afraid to admit, even to her.

_What if he was losing it again? Now that he had finally found some peace from the never-ending torment of the drums, what if the insanity was coming back?_

"Please, Koschei. Trust me," she whispered, her eyes searching his, soft with love and concern.

His gaze clung to her, as if she was suddenly the only thing in the Universe that made any sense. She was so beautiful. He couldn't refuse her when she looked at him like that. And he did trust her, more than he had ever trusted anyone. He needed her, he needed her so much. Swallowing back his fear, he gave an abrupt nod. She smiled reassuringly and reached for him. He closed his eyes and her fingers brushed his face, stroked upward to his temples, as light as a cobweb. Then he sensed the familiar touch of her mind, skimming through his, like a gentle breeze ruffling a field of long grass. The feeling was not at all intrusive. It was tender and intimate, a warm and loving caress, the ultimate act of sharing and trust. But then, as quickly as it had come, the touch was gone, leaving him almost bereft at the suddenness of its loss.

His eyes sprang open, zeroing in on the stunned - almost frightened - look on her face. "What?" he urged. "What did you see?"

Her hands dropped away from his face, as though she didn't quite know what to do with them. "I...I'm not sure," she responded in a tremulous voice, her green gaze shadowed with apprehension. "The whole terrain of your mind has changed – shifted, just slightly, like the landscape after an earthquake. Some things have been uncovered, things that weren't visible before."

He frowned. "What sort of things?"

"Psychic blocks," she answered carefully, as if unsure how he was going to react. "There are lots of them, right throughout your consciousness. They were hidden before, but the air of Mnemosyne must have brought them to the surface."

"Psychic blocks?" he echoed incredulously. "Blocking _what_?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Some of them have dissolved already because of the pathogen in the air – those are the memories you've already seen. But there are others that are still in place, for now at least."

Her words pierced him with cold horror. This was his absolute worst nightmare. Someone had been inside his mind without his knowledge. Someone had messed with his head, tampered with his memories. How could he possibly distinguish now between what was real and what was not? A wave of panic engulfed him. His hands tightened almost desperately on her upper arms.

"But you can get rid of them, right?"

For a moment, Tejana paused. Then she said quietly, "No. I can't."

"What do you mean, _no_? Ana, you have the strongest psychic ability of anyone I've ever known. If anyone can tear down psychic blocks, it's you. I need to know what's happened to me. I need to remember the truth. You have to try!"

"You don't understand, Koschei," she replied, her expression oddly conflicted, almost anguished. "I _could_ remove them, very easily, if I wanted to. But I'm not going to."

The Master stared at her in furious disbelief, his mouth full of the iron taste of betrayal. The foundations of his entire life, everything he believed in, seemed to be wavering around him. His own memories, things he had thought set in stone, had proved to be false and uncertain. And now his lifemate – the woman he loved, the woman he trusted – was refusing to help him. He wanted to scream at her in pain and frustration, but somehow he managed to hold back, keeping his voice low and menacing. "What the hell are you talking about, Ana? Why not?"

"Because I know who put them there. The psychic traces are very clear, very distinct...and very familiar."

"Who?" he hissed, before raising his voice to a demanding shout. "WHO?"

She gave a small shiver within his grasp. Then she lifted her chin and looked him steadfastly in the eye. "The Doctor," she replied.

* * *

><p>"What news?" The mordant, icy voice echoed throughout the room, sliding down the walls like an avalanche of hate.<p>

"He has reclaimed the woman and escaped from the Slave-taker stronghold," the kneeling creature responded, its broad features trembling in barely-repressed fear. "They have fled with the human male known as Captain John Hart and are currently pursued by Lordsmen."

Dark waves of satisfaction flowed from the obsidian throne. "Then it begins. Your brethren will watch over them and keep them from harm. Nothing must prevent him from remembering. Nothing must interfere with my plans, do you hear me, slave? _Nothing._"

The creature bowed respectfully. "As you command, Lord Kelios."

The man on the throne stretched out his hand, slowly drawing his black glove away to reveal his pale white skin. The creature stared at him, fascinated despite itself. His Lord's flesh was firm and youthful-looking, unmistakably the body of a young, strong man. But beneath the thin covering of his skin, strange loathsome cracks appeared to simmer, like maggots crawling under a silk handkerchief, as though something incredibly ancient and incredibly foul was beginning to emerge.

"And you will summon your people for a Gathering," Kelios ordered with an iron smile, replacing his glove. "I will partake of the Gift one last time. I must look my best to greet my long-lost brother. After all, family reunions are always such emotional occasions, are they not?"

"Yes, Lord," the creature replied with alacrity, its wide nostrils quivering with fervour as it turned away, already eagerly anticipating the sweet taste of human blood. "With pleasure."

* * *

><p><em>Oh, this is going to be bad, <em>Tejana thought fearfully, watching the stunned outrage passing over the Master's face, followed by incredulous resentment. _This is going to be really, really bad._

She could feel the black emotions surging through him like a fire-storm, searing everything in their path. Quickly, she reached into the psychic link, searching for the Doctor's consciousness. She had to talk to him, right now. Somehow, she had to find out what this crazy situation was all about, before things went from bad to worse. But it was much too soon after her regeneration. Her mind had not yet regained full strength – wherever he was, the Doctor was too far away to reach, well beyond her current mental range. She was going to have to do her best to resolve this on her own.

"The Doctor?" spat the Master. "The Doctor's been inside my head? Oh, I should have known! _When_? Just how long have these blocks been there?"

"I...I don't know, exactly," she faltered, aware that nothing she said was going to defuse his anger. "They're not new. They've been there for a long time."

"I want them gone, Ana. You will do as I say and remove them...NOW!"

Tejana winced. It hurt to refuse him, but she had no choice. "I can't, Koschei. Not until I know why the Doctor put them there. There has to be a reason. He never does anything without a really, really good reason."

"A reason?" he snarled bitterly. "Of course there's a reason. He's my _enemy_! I intend to find out whatever it is he's been keeping from me and you _will_ help me." His fingers came up to grip her chin, his brown eyes almost black with fury as they bored into hers. "I am the Master and you will obey me."

She could feel the strength of his will swirling around her, encompassing her brain, threading insidiously through her percipience, seeking to take over and manipulate her thoughts. Alarmed at the hostile invasion, her consciousness lashed out at him defensively, successfully repelling his mental attack. His hypnotic mind control tactics had never worked on her, not once in all the years she had known him. He hadn't even bothered to try since she was a very young girl, knowing it was a waste of time. The very fact that he would attempt it now was a clear indication of his desperation.

"How _dare_ you?" she ground out, pulling fiercely away from him, incensed at the attempted violation. "Don't you ever...EVER...try that again!"

He took a step backwards, his face twisted in contempt. "So that's how it's going to be, is it, Tejana? Even after everything that's been between us, when it comes down to it, you're still going to choose him over me."

A sundering pain like the blow of an axe split Tejana's hearts as she felt him withdraw so coldly and completely from her, a frigid wind knifing across her soul as she sensed the sudden, unbridgeable distance between them.

"No!" she cried passionately, horrified at the genuine pain and betrayal in his voice. "I _don't_ choose between you. Before all the gods, Koschei, I hope I never have to! But until I understand why he put those blocks there, I can't remove them. What if they're in place to protect you? What if, by taking them away, I harm you? I can't take that risk. I promise to help you work out exactly what's going on – but first we need to find the Doctor, as soon as possible!"

"Oh, we'll find him, all right," the Master replied icily. "And when we do, there will be no more second chances. This time I'm going to kill him."

The deadly promise in his voice chilled Tejana to the bone. She was in no doubt that he meant every word. Her stomach clenched in utter dismay. _How had this happened? How had everything suddenly gone so terribly wrong between them? None of the Master's new memories seemed to __make any sense at all, they were just a jumbled mess. What had the Doctor done?_

But before she could even try to formulate a reply, another voice cut in, dripping with sarcasm. "Much as I'm enjoying the whole life and death soap-opera vibe you two have got going on here, I think we've got more important things to worry about right now."

The two Time Lords whirled around to glare at Hart, whose existence they had both temporarily forgotten. He was standing upright, his body tense, his features hard and alert with concentration.

"I smell smoke," he continued harshly.

Tejana's first impulse was to breathe deeply to confirm what he was saying. But then, remembering the unique properties of the air of Mnemosyne, she caught herself and decided to take his word for it.

"So?" she demanded, unsure why it was important, her thoughts still fully consumed by her bitter confrontation with the Master.

Hart's eyes swung around to meet hers. "They know we're in here, Princess. And they're not playing games, they mean business. I'm betting they've set the forest on fire to drive us out." He bent over and snatched up a handful of the thick, dry mulch that littered the ground and sifted it through his fingers. "Given the arid atmospheric conditions on this planet, this stuff is just like tinder – it's gonna burn like a case of Carpalian VD." Then, as Tejana shot him a disgusted look, he raised his eyebrows and dead-panned, "What – don't tell me you've never had Carpalian VD? Anyway, the point is, we need to get moving. Right now."

The Master strode over to his horse. "Let's go then. The sooner we're off this planet the better." He shot a meaningful glance at Tejana. "I've got things to do."

_Yeah, like kill my father_, Tejana thought, her hearts leaden with despair. Without a word, she retrieved her waterskin from the ground and swung herself astride her own horse.

Hart mounted up swiftly, urgency in every line of his body. "Yah!" he shouted, digging his heels into the sides of his horse and clearing the stream with one magnificent jump. Tejana and the Master followed his lead without argument, all of them now riding as fast as they dared through the tangled undergrowth, their heads low against their horses' necks to avoid the low-hanging tree branches.

Tejana soon realised that Hart's estimation of the danger had been more than accurate. The fire came behind them at an incredible speed, roaring through the parched trees and snapping at their fleeing heels like a monstrous leviathan, greedily and relentlessly consuming the mass of thick, dried-out vegetation as it advanced, as well as every other living thing in its path. Suddenly, it was all they could do to keep ahead of it. There was no doubt now that they were being expertly hunted. Whoever was leading the Lordsmen was utilising a wealth of cunning and foresight. The forest that had once been a refuge had now become a death trap, a virtual powder keg of untapped fuel.

To make matters worse, a hot, gusty wind had begun to blow from the west, mercilessly driving the orange flames across the tops of the writhing trees. The terrifying sounds of destruction began to close in around them, rising up from the forest, cracking and popping violently, as if the trees themselves were crying out in pain, straining at the roots to escape the devastating wrath of the flames. Looking back over her shoulder, Tejana saw that the spreading inferno was taking on a life of its own, keeping itself alive by tossing dense clouds of glowing embers across the sky, adroitly spawning smaller conflagrations in the places where they fell to the ground, miles and miles away from the original fire-front. The pungent smell of burning grew stronger and stronger, the sweet aroma of flaming pine quickly turning acrid in Tejana's mouth, coating the back of her throat with a nasty, resinous taste. Soon the smoke was visible around them, wreathing grey, ashy fingers through the foliage, stalking the fugitives with choking intensity, further spooking the already frightened horses.

Without warning, Hart wheeled his mount to a halt, sniffing at the air like a dog. Droplets of sweat stood out on his forehead. The ambient temperature was beyond severe by now, the encroaching heat searing the travellers like ants under a magnifying glass.

"They've lit a second fire," he said tersely. "We're heading right for it. They're trying to pincer us between the two and drive us down the middle, right into their arms."

"This is crazy!" Tejana exclaimed, stifling a cough as the swirling smoke tickled unpleasantly down her throat. "They're prepared to burn down an entire forest just to get to us? Why would they care about avenging Ivrium that much? The man was a creep."

"They don't care about avenging Ivrium, Princess. They care about maintaining the hierarchy of power on Mnemosyne," Hart answered, as though he was explaining the obvious to a three-year-old-child. "It's just plain old politics - the rule of the sword. We killed a Keep Lord. Now they need to make a public example of us, in case the peasants start getting any clever ideas about rising up and doing the same thing."

"So now what?" the Master demanded, his hands tight on his reins as his panicked horse began to shy, its eyes rolling in its head at the all-pervasive burning smell.

"We ride for the river," Hart said. "We reach the bridge before they do. If we have to fight, we can do it there."

For Tejana, the memory of the rest of their desperate journey through the burning forest would always be surreal, like a waking nightmare. Following the beacon of Hart's bright red Hussar's jacket through the choking smoke; the roped tension in the muscles of her arms and legs as she forced her terrified horse onwards; the dark, shadowy trees crowding in on them like implacable enemies, strangling her with claustrophobia, holding them back from freedom; the hellish heat bathing her body in feverish perspiration; the roaring flames so close behind them, relentlessly hunting them down. And, worst of all, at her back, the cold emptiness of the Master's withdrawal from her. The ache inside her was like a physical thing, a painful absence, a loneliness she hadn't felt since she first took his hand and followed him into his TARDIS back on the ship of the Eternals. They had fought before – they had far too many differences for their relationship to ever be anything but stormy. But not like this. _Not like this_.

At last, just as she thought she couldn't bear it for a second longer, the trees began to thin and they burst out into open countryside. Relief exploded through Tejana, bursting through her veins like a charge of adrenaline. As much as she despised Hart, she had to admire his cool-headedness and his animal-like sense of direction – somehow, against all the odds, he had managed to lead them through the maze of flames to safety. Or relative safety, at least. Unfortunately, it was immediately apparent that their problems were far from over. The Lordsmen's plan had worked only too well. The fire had forced the fugitives to emerge from the forest right where they were expected to be. A wide road spread before them, devoid of any sort of cover or concealment. In the distance, there was a triumphant shout of discovery and all at once a large band of green-dressed men were riding rapidly towards them.

"This way!" Hart hissed. "GO!"

Turning to the left, Tejana gave her horse its head and sent it racing along the road as fast as possible. The white mare was delighted to be free of the burning forest and wanted nothing more than to leave it as far behind as possible, effortlessly breaking into a beautiful, flowing gallop. The road led downward at a fairly steep gradient, into what appeared to be a canyon. Prickles of imminent danger crawled up the back of Tejana's neck. If they became trapped inside that narrow gorge...She forced the ominous thought from her mind. Hart had not led them astray up until now. With the Lordsmen so close behind them, she had to trust him yet again. She could only hope that he was not making a huge mistake.

As they careened down into the canyon, she soon realised that this had once been the bed of a mighty river. Up ahead, she could see a narrow bridge, crossing over the deep ravine that had once flowed with water, carving its way through the high rocky walls over the centuries. Now, however, the raging river had been contained and imprisoned. To the right of the bridge, towering over it like a hulking monolith, was an enormous dam. It was an impressive structure, completely spanning the canyon, fitted perfectly between the looming cliffs. It was built from innumerable timber planks braced together by expert craftsmen, strong and impregnable. Far below, beneath the bridge, a small stream of water still ran, winding its way through the ravine, glinting in the late afternoon sunshine.

Without hesitation, Hart led them on to the bridge, hooves clattering noisily across the wooden surface. Their mounts were tiring now and the Lordsmen were gaining, already spilling down into the canyon in close pursuit.

Halfway across the bridge, Tejana suddenly realised that the Master was no longer behind her. Looking back, she saw that he had drawn his horse to a halt.

"Koschei!" she cried, wheeling her horse around. "What are you _doing_?"

The Master ignored her completely, yelling at Hart instead. "Get her to the other side. Now!"

Hart took one look at the Time Lord's set face and didn't attempt to question him. Galloping back to Tejana, he seized the reins from her hands before she could stop him and began to forcibly tow her with him towards the far side of the bridge.

"No!" she shrieked, trying to drag her reins free from Hart's unyielding grasp. "Koschei, no!"

"Just for once, Ana, just for bloody _once_, do as you're told!" he shouted back.

Remorselessly, Hart urged her horse onwards, until they reached the other side of the canyon. Tejana looked frantically over her shoulder. The Master had not moved. He sat astride his horse in the middle of the bridge, his blonde head tilted as he gazed intently up at the dam. The laser screwdriver glinted in his hand. The first of the Lordsmen had reached the bridge now, beginning to ride towards him, their swords drawn.

"What's he up to?" Hart demanded. "He can't hold the bridge indefinitely by himself. There's too many of them."

But Tejana knew the Master far too well. She had followed the direction of his eyes and she instantly knew exactly what he was planning. All the colour drained from her face.

"Oh gods," she breathed. "He's going to bring down the dam!"

Hart glanced at her as if she had gone mad. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than one tiny laser screwdriver to bring down that dam, Princess."

"You idiot!" Tejana snapped, starting to fight him for control of the reins once more. "He's one of the most brilliant engineers this Universe has ever seen. All he has to do is calculate the pressure points in his head! Let me go!"

All of the Lordsmen were on the bridge now, closing in on the Master. He sat motionless, watching them approach. Then, without warning, he pulled back on his reins and his horse reared up on its hind legs. Tejana caught her breath as she watched him, tears springing to her eyes – it was one of the most magnificent things she had ever seen. A beam of yellow light arced out from the screwdriver...once...twice...three, four, five times...striking the dam perfectly and accurately in five strategic places.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. The Master turned his horse and began to gallop like the wind, heading for the other side of the bridge, the Lordsmen hot on his heels. Then there was an ominous cracking sound. Slowly, the planks in the dam started to rend and separate, the entire structure irredeemably weakened. Tiny fountains of water began to spring from the smooth, wooden surface, trickling at first, but then beginning to gush, faster and faster. Terrified, the Lordsmen looked up, their faces frozen in fear as they suddenly understood the deadly trap they had led themselves into.

And then the dam burst, timber flying into the air like matchsticks, shattered under the massive pressure of the wall of foaming white water that thundered down into the canyon, the river finally reclaiming its rightful bed and bringing death in its wake, sweeping away the bridge and everything on it.

"NO!" Tejana screamed in horror, staring disbelievingly at the cascading torrent of water boiling past her eyes. "_KOSCHEI!_"


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:**

**Hi all! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter:- padmay97, MayFairy, Romana-II, JoBrookes, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Catelly, OhTex, missawesome1213, mericat, Lady Brid, SlytherinPrincess123, Imorgen, Aietradaea, anonymous, xxTeam-Masterxx, Lost Moon, Bad Dog No Biscuit, Astra68, noideagirl and Phan-Phic-Addict-Holmes.**

**Big welcome to my new reviews - anonymous and noideagirl. So good to have you on board!**

**To anonymous - Thank you very much! I'm so happy that you like my plots and character and think that I bring my stories to life. Having people like you reading them and enjoying them always gives me an amazing buzz!**

**To Lady Brid - Aw, that's so nice of you. I definitely do love my cliff hangers, it's kind of a Brownbug trademark, LOL. And hooray for you starting a story of your own - you'll have to let me know when you post it, so I can have a sticky-beak!  
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**Also, thanks to Lost Moon for continuing to review - I really appreciate it, you're a real regular now XXX.**

**Without any further ado, here's the chapter.  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTEEN<strong>

The Master watched intently as Hart forced Tejana's horse off the bridge to safety on the other side. She was clearly not happy about it, but for once, she was actually doing what she had been told.

The depth of his relief took him by surprise. He was still furiously angry with her. It wasn't just about the psychic blocks she had refused to remove, although that was bad enough. It was also the principle involved. She belonged to him. He had given her his true name, a part of him he had never expected to entrust to anyone, let alone the daughter of his oldest enemy. In return, he expected her absolute and complete loyalty. And that meant, in any choice between him and the Doctor, his wishes should always come first with her, no matter what the situation. But yet again, he was second best – yet again, as always, even in this, the Doctor had won.

_Even in this_.

Hurt burned deep inside him, a grieving ache that he didn't want to admit, even to himself.

He scowled blackly, his fury turning inwards, angry at himself for caring so much in the first place. This was exactly why, throughout the entire nine hundred years of his life, he had always viewed love as a weakness, a delusion enjoyed by idiots and fools. Even as he thought about it, the familiar, deep-seated fear shot through him – the fear of losing control, the fear of allowing someone this much influence over him. Because, despite his rage, despite her betrayal, his first driving instinct was still to make sure Tejana was safe, even at the risk of his own life. She made him _feel_, the first person to do so in centuries. She alone had the power to bring him joy and to bring him pain. And when it was pain, he didn't deal with it at all well.

Looking towards the end of the bridge, he saw that the Lordsmen were galloping towards him, urging their horses forward eagerly. Resolutely, he shut out the disturbing thoughts churning through his mind. He could not afford to falter - the timing of his plan was crucial. And right now, getting off this stinking planet was the only thing that mattered. Sitting absolutely motionless, he gazed up at the dam, his eyes narrowed. It was easy enough to determine the correct combination of pressure points across the face of the structure. He remembered doing similar basic engineering calculations at the Academy on Gallifrey – even as a small child, he had never made a mistake. The laser screwdriver sat comfortably in his hand like an old friend, waiting along with him for the right time to strike.

Everything seemed to wind down into slow motion - every action, every sound around him separate and distinct, every one of his senses concentrated on his goal. A choking pall of smoke from the nearby forest fire hung in the air. The lowering sun shone through the greyish-brown haze like a neon dinner-plate, surrounded in a swirling corona of garish red light, bathing the bridge in front of him in a rosy glow that reminded him of blood. He could hear the steady thrum of the approaching hoof-beats, pounding in his ears in a rousing tattoo, just as the drums had once incessantly pounded. Adrenaline shot through his veins, calculations clicking and whirring in his agile brain, as he measured the distances, judged the timing...right down...to the...very...last...second...

And then, without warning, he exploded into sudden movement, rearing his horse up on its hind legs and firing five rapid, successive bursts from the laser screwdriver towards the dam, unerringly finding the network of fatal weaknesses within the massive structure. Completely confident in his own ability, he didn't wait to see if he had been successful. Instead, he whipped his horse around and began to race for the other side of the bridge, aware that he had mere seconds to save himself. He could hear the terrible rending sound of the dam tearing itself apart above him, the panic-stricken screams of the Lordsmen behind him. Nevertheless, he didn't allow himself to look back, every atom of his being now concentrated on survival.

The bank was so close now, sanctuary almost within his grasp. But before he could reach it, the straining dam shattered into a billion pieces. There was a deafening roar from above and a deadly tsunami of churning white water burst free, surging between the cliffs in a spectacular, unstoppable deluge. In that single, piercing instant, just before the enormous wave hit him, he knew he was not going to make it. On the bank, so close yet so far away, he could see the bright, copper smudge of Tejana's hair, the pale oval of her face turned towards him, her voice screaming his name in his mind.

Then the water struck him like a fist, sweeping him away into the roiling torrent, sucking him down into darkness. His horse was wrenched away from him, lost in the heaving current. Water seemed to batter brutally at him from all sides, tumbling him helplessly over and over, until he no longer knew which way was up. His lungs began to burn, starving for air. Acting on instinct, his Gallifreyan respiratory bypass system kicked in, instantly reducing his need for oxygen. It bought him some time, but not much. He had to reach the surface soon or he was going to die. Kicking powerfully, he tried to force his way through the foaming maelstrom, with little effect. He was so disoriented by the whirling water that he couldn't even be sure if he was swimming in the right direction. His heavy jeans and work-boots were weighing him down, but he couldn't seem to twist around enough to get them off. Deadly tiredness began to creep through his limbs, an insidious lethargy numbing his brain. Blackness closed in on him, bringing with it a curious peace, the urge to fight slowly ebbing away.

Suddenly, strong hands seized his arms, dragging him upward, propelling him though the water at an incredible rate. He could still see nothing. All he could assume was that, by some miracle, Ana and Hart had found him, and were pulling him to the surface, one swimming on each side of him. At the same time, far away and distant in the half-drowned torpor of his mind, a tentative feeling of unease stirred, a faint recognition that neither pair of hands was small enough to belong to Tejana.

At last his head broke the surface. Before he could stop himself, he sucked in a huge gasp of air, drawing the contaminated oxygen deep into his tortured lungs. Almost immediately, the eerie sensation of falling assailed him again, the pathogenic atmosphere of Mnemosyne drawing him relentlessly back into his own past.

The last thing he saw, before he lost his tenuous grip on reality, were the alien eyes of his two rescuers – eyes that were large and pale, gleaming like twin moons as they stared unblinkingly at him.

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><p>Unable to free her reins from Hart's grasp, Tejana slid from her horse's back and began to run back up the bank, towards the place where the bridge had once been.<p>

"Koschei!" she shouted, her eyes frantically scouring the foaming river. "KOSCHEI!"

But Hart moved like lightning, dismounting and catching up to her before she could get very far. Ruthlessly, he seized her around the waist and hoisted her on to his shoulder, carrying her back to the waiting horses.

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, beating savagely on his broad back with her small fists. "I have to find him! I'm warning you, Hart..."

"Forget it, Princess," he said grimly. "He's dead. No-one could have survived that. There are still Lordsmen on the other side of that river. We have to get to your ship, before anyone else comes after us."

"He's the Master. He doesn't DO dead!" she snarled. "And if you think I would _ever_ leave without him, dead or alive, you don't know me at all! So put me down, _right now_, or I swear I'll make sure you don't get within ten miles of the TARDIS."

Hart hesitated for a moment, but then he reluctantly released her, obviously understanding that she meant every word that she said. Tearing away from him, she raced along the river's edge, doing her best to tune out the roaring sound of the water, trying to centre herself enough to listen within the psychic link. To her overwhelming joy, she realised she could still faintly sense the Master. He was alive, but not conscious, his mind shuttered and unresponsive. At first, she was afraid that he was trapped somewhere within the raging flood-waters, beyond her reach. But then she saw the crumpled, black figure lying further down the bank.

Relief stunned her. For a moment, she was light-headed with incomprehension. _How had he done it? How had he survived?_ She had _seen_ the enormous wave sweeping him away. But then she was running towards him, all questions forgotten, anxiety for him coiling in her stomach. As she approached, she saw the air appear to ripple and swirl behind him, as if something almost invisible had turned and slid away, back into the river. An unnamed shiver traced its way up her spine. Wrenching her head around sharply, she glanced across at the cascading water, but could discern nothing unusual. Dismissing the peculiar sensation, she returned her attention to the Master, everything else slipping from her mind, his safety the only thing that mattered to her. He was lying on his back. Blood streaked his face from a deep graze on his forehead, but otherwise he appeared to be uninjured. Thankfully, she could see his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathed. Her first instinct was to pull him close to her, her arms aching to hold him. But, before she could reach out for him, she saw that his brown eyes were wide open and staring sightlessly up at the sky. With a chill in her hearts, she recognised the symptoms from earlier in the forest and realised that he had succumbed to the mnemosis once more.

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><p><em>The Master was standing in the centre of the War Room on Gallifrey, facing the High Council, his back straight, his shoulders thrown back, his head tilted arrogantly. He could feel the life pulsing through his veins, the muscles flexing powerfully under his skin, the double heartbeat throbbing in his chest, rejoicing in the pure physicality of his being. He was alive! And for the first time in centuries, he had a young, strong Time Lord body – not a rotting, crumbling corpse, not an inadequate husk of a body stolen from someone of an inferior species. There would be no more of these makeshift measures to maintain his existence, no more of the hunted, fugitive life among the stars. Finally, the Time Lords had recognised his worth, finally his people had given him his due, the honour he deserved. <em>

_His mouth twisted in cynical amusement at the irony of it all. Suddenly, after centuries of being a shunned and despised renegade, he was just what these spineless old fools needed, to fight their Time War, because he knew so well how to kill and kill and kill again, without compunction and without mercy._

_The perfect warrior._

_And so they had resurrected him, dragged him back from Death yet again, patronisingly granting him another chance at life - another full cycle of regenerations - if he would fight for them, if he would help to save their crumbling, enfeebled civilisation from the Dalek menace. _

_He lifted his chin and stared piercingly at the man seated on the throne before him. So this was the great Rassilon, he mused. The venerated leader he had heard about ever since he was a child. This was the man the Time Lords had deposed as President millennia ago, tired of his despotic rule, only to run back to him like frightened children as soon as war threatened, reinstating him and trusting him to lead them to victory. _

_The Master surveyed him intently, assessing and measuring the Lord President as he would a potential adversary, taking in the intelligent, wintry grey eyes, the hard, craggy features, the tight, ruthless mouth. He could hear the drums pounding in his head as their eyes met, louder than ever before, the four beats drilling mercilessly into his mind, over and over again. And inwardly, he smiled, immediately recognising the power-mad insanity in Rassilon's gaze - the cold, unfeeling, psychopathic need to dominate, to manipulate, to control. After all, he had seen that same look often enough before, every time he glanced in the mirror, in every one of his many incarnations. In resurrecting Rassilon, it seemed that on this occasion the High Council, in their blind panic to survive, may have bitten off more than they could chew._

_Then something else seized the Master's attention, catching him by surprise. His eyes flickered upwards, towards the back row of the tiered seating, seeking and finding the presence that prodded at his consciousness like a sharp needle. So...it appeared that he was not the only renegade Time Lord Rassilon had summoned home to defend Gallifrey in her time of need. _

_The Doctor. The peace lover, the man who made people better, sitting silently in this council of war, as out of place as a sheep in a room full of wolves, his face pale and drawn with sorrow. Knowing his old enemy as well as he did, the Master guessed that he had been trying to resolve the conflict, trying to end the bloodshed and achieve a peaceful outcome to the War. As always, the Master marvelled at the man's never-ending naivety. _

_Sanctimonious git, he thought scornfully. Couldn't he see that this War was exactly what Rassilon wanted? A peaceful outcome was never even on the agenda. _

_Contemptuously, he tore his gaze away from the Doctor, to concentrate once more on the President. _

"_You spoke of a deal, Lord President," he said flatly. "What exactly is it that you want from me?"_

_Rassilon inclined his head in genial acknowledgement. "I see you prefer the direct approach, my Lord Master. Very well, then. The Time Lords have developed a new weapon...a battleship, known as The Cruciform, equipped with temporal technology unlike anything the Universe has ever seen before. We require a commander, someone capable of leading the Time Lords into battle and ending this infernal war with the Daleks once and for all."_

_Elation surged through the Master's veins as he considered the implications of Rassilon's offer. A ship! The most powerful ship in the history of Time, if Rassilon was telling the truth, under his complete control. With a weapon that deadly in his hands, nothing and no-one could stop him. Once he wiped out the Daleks, Gallifrey itself would be at his complete mercy. And after Gallifrey, the rest of the Universe. _

_But even as he thought it through, alarm bells rang in the back of his head. Rassilon was not such a fool. Somewhere in this there was a catch._

_For the first time, he noticed the woman standing behind the Lord President, partially concealed by the large throne. An ugly old crone, dressed in tattered black robes, with grey straggling hair and an ancient face, liberally curlicued with henna tattoos. The Master barely managed to repress a shudder._

_Aminestra, the Shabogan Witch-woman, the last descendant of the Pythia. His father's whore, once beautiful, now decaying and decrepit, her eyes bright with hatred and malice. Judging by her close proximity to the Lord President, the Master guessed that Rassilon had chosen to make use of her Pythian precognitive powers, employing her as a visionary in an attempt to foresee the outcome of the War. _

_He couldn't have said why, but the old hag's presence in the War Room made him even more uneasy. With long practice, he kept his face impassive, careful not to reveal any of his true thoughts._

"_And you want to entrust me with this...Cruciform?" he asked, returning his gaze to Rassilon. "Why me?"_

_The Lord President smiled thinly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, my Lord Master. We need someone cunning, someone adept at strategy and planning – someone capable of using the destructive power of this weapon to best effect."_

"_In other words, you need someone expendable who's prepared to kill for you," the Master said dryly._

"_If you wish to put it bluntly...yes," Rassilon agreed. "Do you accept my offer? If not, I will order the vaporisation chamber to be prepared."_

_The Master hesitated. All his instincts were warning him that there was more to this than met the eye. But if he refused, he would be dead again before sunset. The only thing he could do was to keep his wits about him and try to turn the situation to his advantage at the earliest opportunity._

"_Nice to see you're giving me a choice," he answered with a bitter laugh. "Very well, I accept."_

_The Lord President responded calmly with a satisfied nod, as if the outcome had never been in question. "You will depart immediately. A shuttlecraft will transport you to The Cruciform within the hour."_

_Recognising the inherent dismissal in Rassilon's tone, the Master gave a small, ironic bow and turned on his heel, resisting the urge to glance up at the Doctor again. Two members of the Chancellery Guard escorted him to the door, one on each side of him. Just as he had thought – Rassilon was not a fool. The Lord President obviously did not intend to permit him to roam about unsupervised while he remained within the Time Lord Capitol._

_Ignoring his guard, he strode out into the corridor, his mind busily sorting through all the information he had received, intent on trying to discern Rassilon's ulterior motive. Thus preoccupied, he almost collided with two people approaching the door of the War Room. One was a short, fat little man dressed in the bronze robes of a junior Councillor. The Master's gaze passed over him uninterestedly. But the tall, slender woman accompanying the Councillor effortlessly caught his attention and held it._

_It was Tejana, the Doctor's daughter – he would know her anywhere. But she was changed, so very changed, from when he had seen her last, on the planet Sarn, with the Doctor, Turlough and Perpugilliam Brown. Back then, her nut-brown hair had been long and luxurious, flowing over her shoulders and down her back. In his memory, he had a clear image of her wearing a pair of well-fitting denim cut-off shorts and a tight, black tank top which had emphasised her curves. Her dark eyes had been sparkling and full of life, laughter never too far away from her face. Now, she was wearing a filthy, grey combat suit, torn and stained with blood. Her beautiful hair had been roughly hacked short in a ragged approximation of a military style. And the expression on her face was one of complete and utter despair._

_For one endless moment, their eyes met. With a strange feeling, almost like regret, the Master realised with a shock that she was no longer the carefree girl he had once known. Her eyes were cold and dead, emotionless, the eyes of a killer._

_A look of recognition passed over her face as she stared at him. Without speaking, she gave him one brief nod of acknowledgement, which he returned. Then she disappeared, following the portly little Councillor through the swinging door into the War Room._

_Curiously, the Master watched her go, idly wondering what had happened to change her so much._

_Because one thing was for sure – somewhere, somehow, the Doctor's daughter had finally learned how to hate. _

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><p>Kneeling beside the Master's supine body, Tejana heard a step behind her. Whirling around, she saw that Hart had followed her, bringing the horses with him.<p>

"I think he's OK," she said tightly, relief choking her voice. "But we can't move him. He's catatonic again."

"Holy crap! Don't tell me he's still alive!" Hart exclaimed, crouching down beside her, his expression incredulous as he stared at the unconscious Master. "Never mind the mnemosis, Princess – there's just no freaking way he could have survived that dam collapse!"

"I told you," she said, flicking him an icy look. "He's not that easy to kill. Trust me, I should know."

Hart's eyes narrowed speculatively. "Yeah? Well, some things just aren't possible, darling, and this is one of them. His lungs should have filled with water as soon as that wave hit him!"

"Not possible for a human, maybe," she replied curtly. "But humans don't have the advantage of a respiratory bypass system."

"A _what_?"

"What, wasn't that bit in the Torchwood records you hacked? Gallifreyans have a respiratory bypass system. Our lungs are different to humans – we have a series of pulmonary tubes parallel to the lymphatic system. It effectively allows us to shut down our respiratory system to conserve oxygen in an emergency."

"Very handy!" Hart said sardonically. "I'll have to keep that in mind if I ever need to kill either of you. Although, even I have to admit, that was some stunt your boyfriend just pulled. You do know he's completely insane, right?"

Tejana gave a choked little laugh at the irony of the comment. "Oh, you don't know the half of it!" she emphasised, thinking back on all the terrible things the Master had done. "Next to him, you're nothing but an amateur, Hart. So just do us all a favour and don't provoke him, OK?"

Hart's eyes wandered slowly up and down the length of the Master's body, a growing gleam of admiration heating his gaze. "Hey, I didn't say it was a bad thing," he purred.

Tejana's spine stiffened in instant, defensive reaction. "Yeah, well, you can keep your creepy-crawly Time Agent hands to yourself!" she retorted, transfixing him with a steely glare. "He's _taken_, in every way possible!"

"Oooh, feisty!" Hart leered, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Never picked you for the jealous type, Princess. Besides, I have no problem with a threesome!"

Her glare intensified. "Suggest that again and you'll be needing abdominal surgery to brush your teeth!" she snarled, her small fists clenching aggressively.

But he was no longer listening, his attention distracted, his lean face becoming uncharacteristically grim again as he looked out over the fast-running water. "Catatonic or not, we're going to have to move him, right now. We can't stay here."

"_What?_" she bit out. "But you were the one who said it was dangerous to touch him while he was under the influence of the mnemosis!"

"I know what I said. But look over there."

She followed his eyes and saw another large group of Lordsmen assembling on the far side. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she recognised their leader. It was Silas, the Lordsman from the village. Even across the wide expanse of the river, she could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with malice. Without needing to be told, she knew that he was the one behind the lighting of the catastrophic forest fire. It was clear that he would let nothing stand in his way in his determined quest to recapture them. Somehow, for him, the hunt had become very, very personal.

As she watched, she saw him bark out some orders to his men. The group of riders turned their horses and began to gallop rapidly away to the north.

"There's a ford about twenty minutes ride further up the river," Hart said. "That's where they'll be headed. If we don't get out of here soon, they'll catch up with us. After that, Blondie and I will both be dead - and you'll wish you were, by the time they're through with you."

Indecision clawed at her. She hated to put the Master at risk while he was in such a vulnerable state. But even though Hart was a jerk, his logic was irrefutable. The best she could do was to choose the lesser of two evils.

"Fine!" she replied. "But he rides with me."

Hart climbed to his feet, a mocking glint in his eyes. "You know, one of these days, you're going to have to learn to trust me, Princess."

"Yeah?" she returned coldly. "Well, today isn't that day."


	14. Chapter 14

**_Author's Note: Hello everyone - yeah, I know, long time, no typey-type, sorry about the longish gaps between updates lately (if anyone's still reading, that is!)_**

**_Huge thanks to the following lovely folks for reviewing the last chapter - Imorgen, MayFairy, Romana-II, Aietradaea, Padmay97, missawesome1213, noideagirl, Catelly, EmmaMarie (x 2), Phanphic-Addict-Holmes, Lost Moon, Dryu, xxTeam-Masterxx (x 2), crazychika495, tardisandafirebolt (x 9), kari910, OhTex, Geraldine and the OnyxRose._**

**_Special thanks to tardisandafirebolt for such a massive catch-up - you are still a total reviewing legend and I hope things are going a little better for you now ** hugs **  
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_**Anyway, here's the chapter, such as it is.  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOURTEEN<strong>

Tejana had visited many, many different planets in her time, but she knew would always remember Mnemosyne for some of the most magnificent sunsets she had ever seen. As they rode along a rocky path between the hills, the vast expanse of blue sky above them gradually began to transform into a brilliant, autumn red, the billowing clouds morphing from cotton-white to a flaming orange-yellow edged with silver.

The heat was oppressive, the humidity stroking through her hair like greasy fingers. A slight breeze teased the air, but it was warm, capricious and temperamental, doing nothing to alleviate the stifling atmosphere.

Tejana's arms ached from supporting the Master's weight. He was seated astride the horse in front of her, his body limp as he leaned back against her, his eyes still blank and unseeing. He was not as tall as Jack or the Doctor, but it was still enormously difficult for her to hold him firmly in place, while at the same time doing her best to shield him from any bumps or jolts which might endanger his fragile mental state. It would have made a lot more sense for him to ride with Hart, who was larger and stronger. But Tejana still didn't trust the ex-Time Agent and she would be damned if she would concede the Master's care to him, no matter how difficult it got. So instead, she gritted her teeth and held on, stubbornly ignoring the pain in her arms and her back.

Hart went in front, cantering confidently through the lush green hills, following a path that took them higher and higher, away from the river. As they rode, a familiar prickling feeling seemed to crawl up Tejana's spine, settling uncomfortably between her shoulder-blades. The sensation was very distinct and very unnerving – they were being watched. With eerie precision, her mind flew back to the weird, translucent shimmering she had seen behind the Master on the river-bank. Apprehensively, she jerked her head around to stare back over her shoulder, her far-sighted eyes delineating the silver, serpentine gleam of the river as it wound into the distance. She couldn't see anything that could account for her feeling of being watched, but she did manage to pick out a group of green-clad figures, clustered far away at the water's edge, back at the site of the ruined dam.

"It's all right," Hart said, his unexpected voice making her jump. He had brought his horse to a halt in front of her and was following her gaze back the way they had come. "They won't be able to track us up here. This ground is far too stony. We're not leaving any trace."

"What if they have blood-hounds?" she asked worriedly.

He raised his arm and tapped on the Time Agent wrist-strap that encircled it. "I've been using this to vibrate the odour molecules surrounding us. It disrupts all biological olfactory sensation. In other words, Princess, no dogs allowed."

Tejana's head came up sharply. "I thought you said your wrist-strap didn't work any more."

"I _said _the energy cell powering the vortex manipulator component had burnt out," he replied smoothly. "All the other components are functioning perfectly."

Her eyes narrowed, distrust coiling inside her like a serpent as she gazed at his bland, handsome face, unable to shake the impression that he was secretly laughing at her. Hart was one of the most devious people she had ever had the misfortune to meet. It was pure instinct to second-guess everything that came out of his mouth. After all, that had always been the number one rule Jack had given Torchwood when dealing with his ex-partner – _never _believe anything he says.

But Jack wasn't here and, despite her suspicions, she had no concrete evidence that Hart was up to any of his old tricks. Therefore the only thing she could do was to make sure she was very, very careful.

"Do you get the feeling we're being watched?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly. For a human, Hart's senses were unusually acute, almost preternatural. If there was something out there, he would know it. "Because I do."

The sensation was so strong, so convincing, that she was taken by surprise when Hart shook his head. "Nope. Just your imagination, Princess. You're letting this planet get to you."

Tejana frowned, her sense of unease deepening. He had answered so quickly. Almost _too_ quickly. But in these circumstances, she couldn't see any reason why he would lie. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was reading too much into things. Perhaps the contaminated air was making her lose her mind, sensing things that weren't really there.

Wearily, she closed her eyes for a moment and rested her head gently against the back of the Master's neck, loving the softness of his hair against her cheek. She wished he would wake up. She wished they were back in the TARDIS, just the two of them, where it was safe.

"Ready to let me take him yet?" she heard Hart ask, his tone both forbearing and condescending, as if she was a recalcitrant child.

Temper spiked through her small frame, stiffening her spine. "For the last time, I don't need your help, Hart!"

"Whatever you say, Little Miss Independent," he mocked. "We'll have to stop soon anyway. It's getting too dark to travel over this rough terrain. There's a place up ahead where we can camp the night."

Without deigning to say anything further, Tejana tightened her grip on the Master and urged her horse forward, shadowing Hart closely as he led the way into a narrow canyon, sheltered by high walls of natural stone.

"In here," he said, indicating a dark cleft in the cliff face, which at first glance looked like nothing more than a thin fissure in the rock. Moving quickly, he dismounted and tethered his horse to a nearby boulder, before crossing over to stand beside Tejana's mount. "You'll need to hand him down to me."

Reluctantly, she allowed him to take the Master from her, sliding him carefully down from the saddle. Hurriedly, she jumped down herself and secured her horse, before following Hart into the narrow gap. As she passed through the semi-concealed entrance, she found herself in a surprisingly large cave, carved out of the hillside long ago, with a low roof and a sandy floor. In one deft motion, she stripped off her travelling cloak and spread it flat on the ground, hovering critically as Hart lowered the Master to lay back on it. While it was obvious that he was being extremely careful to jolt the catatonic Time Lord as little as possible, she couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief when they had him settled and motionless once more. With a lump in her throat, she gazed down at the Master's unresponsive face, longing to stroke the tousled blonde hair back from his brow, but not daring to touch him. Patience had never been one of her strongest traits, in any of her regenerations, and this newest one was no different. If only she could do _something_ for him. She loathed being so helpless, just sitting around and waiting like this.

Trying to take her mind off her worry and frustration, she glanced around the refuge Hart had found for them. Harsh orange light from the sinking sun slanted obliquely in through the cramped entrance, alleviating some of the darkness, but leaving the depths of the cave largely untouched, swathed in mysterious shadow. Tejana shivered a little, hating the enclosed feeling of the space. It had obviously been used as some sort of hideout before, because there were torches in brackets at regular intervals around the walls and a round fire-pit dug into the ground near the mouth of the cave, complete with a pile of dry firewood stacked conveniently nearby.

As Tejana watched, Hart began to snap some of the thinner branches into kindling and toss it into the fire-pit.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown.

"What does it look like?" he returned. "I'm making a fire."

"A _fire_? But it's already so hot – what do we need a fire for?"

He shot her an amused look. "Not much of an outdoors girl, are you, Princess? To keep us safe, for a start. There's night-life on this planet that would make a wild Saturday evening pub crawl in down-town Cardiff look like a walk in the park. The less of it we have to deal with, the better. A fire between us and the entrance should keep the worst of it out."

Tejana bit her lip, tacitly acknowledging his point, trying not to dwell on what sort of 'night-life' he might be referring to.

"You've been in here before," she said, a comment rather than a question, given his obvious familiarity with the cave.

He shrugged. "I lived here for a bit, when I first came to Mnemosyne. Before I managed to convince Ivrium and his fellow Lords that my skills were worth paying for."

Her eyes flashed with scorn. "As a Slave-taker?"

"Well, by an odd coincidence, the leader of the Slave-takers at the time had an unexpected and fatal accident," Hart smirked. "Let's just say the vacancy was...opportune."

"Oh, I bet," she muttered sarcastically.

She could have said more, but for once she held her tongue. Making him angry would only be counter-productive. She had never for one moment thought she would be glad of Hart's company, but she had to admit, in this particular situation, she was thankful that he was around. Her mouth twisted ironically. She recalled feeling the same ambivalent way about the Master, at the beginning of their journey inside The Matrix.

_Yeah, and look how THAT turned out_, she thought, her eyes wandering to the other Time Lord, remembering the passionate caresses they had shared under the scarlet, lightning-filled sky.

"How is he?" Hart asked.

Tejana started a little at the question, forcefully pulling her mind back from the past.

"The same," she replied shortly. "Which is a good thing, I suppose. At least it means that moving him hasn't damaged him further."

For a moment, Hart was silent, methodically arranging some dry grass in amongst the kindling.

"So..." he drawled eventually. "This thing with you and Blondie...it's serious, then?"

"Serious enough."

"Funny...I wouldn't have thought he'd be your number one choice. With you being such a goody-two-shoes, I'd have guessed a save-the-world hero type like Jack would be _much _more your style."

Tejana glared at him resentfully. "I think we've already established that you know nothing about me, Hart," she bristled. "So why don't you save the armchair psychology for someone who might be interested, OK?"

Unabashed, he produced an Earth-style cigarette lighter from his back pocket, using it to quickly and efficiently light the fire. He had a smug grin playing around his lips, evidently pleased with himself for provoking such a strong reaction from her. Annoyed with herself, Tejana watched the tiny yellow flames dancing amongst the kindling, deliberately keeping her gaze averted from him, hoping against hope he would get bored and not bother to continue the conversation. But Hart was a long, long way from letting it go. It was another thing he had in common with the Master – they were both adept at finding a sensitive spot in a person's psyche and needling away at it until it bled.

"Hmmm...from Blondie's reaction to Jack's name earlier, I'm guessing they don't get on too well, right?" he mused out loud, moving to light the torches around the walls. "That's not like Jack. Usually he makes sure he gets on _very _well with the good-looking ones."

"They got off on the wrong foot, that's all," she replied icily.

"Oh yeah? How was that?"

The last thing Tejana wanted to do was to discuss the ins and outs of the Year That Never Was, but unfortunately she knew Hart well enough to realise he wouldn't give up until he got a satisfactory answer.

"The Master tortured and killed Jack over 800 times, if you must know," she said, her tone bleak and to the point. "Things kind of went down-hill from there."

Hart's eyebrows sprang upwards in complete surprise. Whatever answer he had been expecting, that obviously hadn't been it. "The wrong foot indeed!" he said wryly. "Holy crap, Princess, that has to be the understatement of the century!" She could feel his gaze searching her face intently, as if she was some sort of puzzle he was determined to solve. "And yet you still left Jack for him, even after all that?"

This time, she remained silent, her lips compressed tightly together as she stared into the leaping flames of the fire. After all, what was the point of confirming the obvious? Why bother trying to explain the unexplainable?

Hart continued to study her closely, an odd expression in his eyes. "Oh, _now_ I get it," he said softly, almost as though he was talking to himself.

"You get _what_?"

"Why you left Jack. I never understood it before. But you actually love this guy, don't you? _Really_ love him. Much more than you ever loved Jack."

Tejana tensed, her hands clenching involuntarily into fists. Captain John Hart was the _last_ person she ever wanted to talk to about her confused and tangled emotions towards both Jack and the Master.

"Like you would even understand what that means!" she lashed out. "You've never loved anyone in your life!"

"Actually, that's where you're wrong," he said calmly. "I love Jack. I always have."

"Jack!" she spat. "You've got to be joking! You pushed him off a twenty-five storey building!"

Hart shrugged indifferently. "That was just business. Nothing personal."

"Jack took it pretty personally, believe me!"

"Oh, come on now," Hart taunted slyly, his gaze hard. "Are you trying to tell me you've never tried to kill Blondie here? Not even once?"

Tejana opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it again, realising there was nothing she could say. After all, she had tried to kill the Master several times during her life, the most recent attempt being only five years ago aboard _The Valiant_.

"Thought so," Hart said, reading her expression. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Princess."

"It's hardly the same thing!" she snapped.

"Why? Because you were one of the good guys at the time?" he shot back sarcastically. "Murder is murder, sweetheart, or so they tried to tell me in rehab."

Standing, he stretched lethargically. "Anyway, as enlightening as this conversation has been, I'd better see if I can go and find something for us to eat, before the light fails altogether." He gave her a cocky wink. "Do you think you can possibly manage without me for a bit?"

"Oh, just watch me!" she retorted, her voice dripping with acid.

Hart strode across the cave, resettling his gun-belt on his lean hips as he went. Then, just before he reached the entrance, he turned back to face her, his hard features unusually serious.

"A butterfly," he said enigmatically.

Tejana blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

"That's what you remind me of. A beautiful, shimmering butterfly...right before its lovely wings are torn off."

Her stomach tightened in sudden revulsion at the vivid and brutal imagery, so typical of Hart.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"He's a dangerous man, Princess," he responded flatly. "And he's going to end up destroying you. You should have stayed with Jack. You really, really should have stayed with Jack."

With that, he disappeared outside into the oncoming night. Tejana stared after him, an icy shudder of foreboding trickling across her skin. She didn't know why his words shocked her so much. After all, the Doctor and Jack and Martha had each told her more or less the same thing and she had stubbornly ignored them all, determined on going her own way. But somehow, hearing the warning so unexpectedly from John Hart's cynical, dispassionate mouth...it seemed so much more ominous. So much more real.

_So much more frightening. _

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><p>The Master's eyes sprang open. He was lying on his back, looking up at a rocky ceiling of some sort. Warm orange torchlight shone across the stone, the flickering light dancing mysteriously with the writhing shadows. The air was sweltering, hot and sticky against his skin, beads of perspiration forming on his brow. He could hear a fire crackling and popping not far away.<p>

He sat up with a jerk, urgently scanning his surroundings. With a jolt of relief, he saw Tejana seated nearby and realised he had escaped the dream-world and had returned to reality again. She was facing a small camp-fire, her back hunched against the cave wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her head was slumped forwards, her delicate features hidden by her gleaming cascade of hair. She looked very small and very despondent. And very alone. Hart was nowhere in sight.

"Ana?"

She raised her head at the sound of his voice, her eyes huge and startled in her pale face. "Koschei! You're back. Oh, thank the gods. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. What happened?"

"_What happened?_" she echoed incredulously. "You brought down the entire dam, that's what happened! And nearly got yourself drowned in the process!"

"Yeah, that much I remember," he said impatiently. "But what happened to those creatures?"

She looked at him blankly. "What creatures?"

"The two...things...that pulled me out of the river. They saved my life. Big glowing eyes, long arms, translucent bodies. Didn't you see them?"

"I saw...something," she responded uncertainly. "When I found you on the riverbank. A sort of shimmering, as though something had slipped back into the water. But I couldn't make out what it was."

He shifted his posture, stretching his cramped limbs, suddenly remembering how the blood had sung in the veins of his newly-reincarnated body in the vision. Tejana sat very still, making no move to come to him. It wasn't like her. Usually, when he had been in any sort of danger, the first thing she did was to touch him, as though she needed some sort of tangible reassurance that he was still alive and with her. But this time, she kept her distance. It disturbed him. While her reticence was not necessarily surprising after their earlier clash that day, some sixth sense told him there was something more. Something stirred behind the green of her eyes, something that hadn't been there before...something almost like apprehension.

"Where are we now?" he asked, watching her closely. "And where's Hart?"

"It's a cave in the hills. You were catatonic again. We had to find somewhere to hide from the Lordsmen until you woke up. John's gone to find something to eat."

The Master's ears pricked up. "_John?_" It was the first time he had ever heard her refer to the Time Agent by anything other than his surname.

She looked away, staring into the fire. "Hart," she amended tiredly. "_Hart's_ gone to find some food. It's getting dark. We can find the TARDIS tomorrow."

He stood and walked over to her, seating himself beside her. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, gently turning her face towards him, thinking how different she looked now to the girl he had just seen in his regained memory. Different outwardly, and yet inwardly, still the same, the scars from the Time War always lurking indelibly, just below the surface.

"Ana..." he began hesitantly. "Do you...do you remember seeing me on Gallifrey, at the very beginning of the Time War?"

A look of surprise crossed her face. "Yes, of course. Just briefly, outside the War Room. You were about to take command of _The Cruciform_."

"And yet, if you'd asked me yesterday, I would have sworn that, until you arrived with the Doctor on Malcassairo, I hadn't seen you since the planet Sarn," he said tightly.

"Perhaps...you just forgot?" she suggested, a small frown creasing her forehead. "It was over so quickly and it wasn't as if it was important."

He shook his head, his hand gently stroking the copper hair back from her face. "Ana, even when we were enemies, in nine hundred years I've never forgotten a single thing about you, from the first moment I ever saw you. Why would I forget that?"

A delicate flush crept across her cheeks at the unthinking tenderness of the admission. "So you...you think that was one of the things the Doctor _wanted_ you to forget? But why?"

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "It wasn't just seeing you, it was the whole interview I had with Rassilon as well." Then his eyes widened with a new thought. "And the Doctor was_ there_, right? That day, in the War Room?"

"Oh yes, he was there," she agreed, a strange bitterness lacing through her voice, a shadow passing over her face at the memory.

"And you never mentioned seeing me to him at all?"

"No. We don't talk about the Time War. We never have. Especially that day," she said bleakly. "Why do you ask?"

The Master's mind was racing, incredulously putting two and two together. "Because if he was there, he knew that Rassilon had resurrected me. He knew that I was sent to take command of _The Cruciform_."

Tejana merely shrugged in bewilderment, not understanding his point. "Yeah, he knew. So what?"

"So...when I was speaking to him on the phone on Earth...when I was Harold Saxon...he asked me what had happened to me during the Time War," the Master responded grimly. "Why didn't he already know, Ana? Why didn't he remember?"


	15. Chapter 15

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Greetings! I'm back with a quick update this time, how good is that? Actually, I've had a few people complain to me about the increasing length of time between my updates, so I'm just going to say something briefly about it here. The fact is, I've been quite seriously ill over the last few months and I've been told I have to take it easy. I have over 250 people regularly reading every chapter I put out on this story, but the majority of them never bother to review. So the truth is I've decided that I'm not prepared to put my health at risk to entertain a bunch of people who can't take the trouble **_to leave me even a few, tiny words of feedback_** or encouragement - sorry about that :)_**

**_On the other hand, there are the amazing and much-appreciated people who DO review. They are the ones I continue to write for, even when I don't feel like it, because they are terrific. In particular, thank you to the following people who reviewed the last chapter: Catelly, EmmaMarie, JoBrookes, Romana-II, Imorgen, MayFairy, padmay97, missawesome1213, Goddess of Shadows, betting on the muse, Dryu, Aietradaea, noideagirl, PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes and Lost Moon. I appreciate each and every one of you, you all rock.  
><em>**

**Anyway, here is the chapter...bit of romance and "almost-fluff" in this one - who'd have thought? LOL!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FIFTEEN<strong>

Tejana stared at the Master in bewilderment. She had no insight to offer him. She had always assumed the Doctor had known the other Time Lord had been resurrected by Rassilon at the beginning of the War, just as she had always known. There had never been any reason for her to discuss it with him.

Thinking back, she could easily recall the telephone conversation the Master was referring to. She had just arrived back from Malcassairo with the Doctor, Jack and Martha, only for them to realise that in their absence from Earth, the Master - as Harold Saxon - had become Prime Minister of Britain, in charge of everything. Martha had called her brother Leo on her mobile phone to warn him to hide, but the Master had used the Archangel Network to interrupt the call. The Doctor had taken the phone to speak to him, walking away from his companions into the rain. Tejana had never heard what had passed between the two old friends in that call, but she had guessed from the Doctor's face that it had been an emotional interchange.

"So you've never talked about the Time War with the Doctor?" the Master asked now, his tone incredulous. "_Never?_"

Tejana shrugged painfully. "Not really, no. After it was all over, when he first found me again on the planet Ariadne, I told him a bit about the Battle of the Ramah Phalanx and how I had fallen into E-Space. And he explained how he'd been forced to end it all using The Moment and that we were all that was left...the last of the Time Lords. After that, we never really spoke of it again."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Her voice trembled. "Because it was too hard. All the killing. All the rage. All the pain and the darkness. I...couldn't."

"You said 'especially not that day'," the Master persisted. "Why, Ana? What was important about that day?"

Tejana closed her eyes. She didn't want to answer. She didn't want to think of it, didn't want to remember, the heartache was just too great. Even now, after so much time had passed, she wasn't sure she could bear to talk about that day. But this was too important. She knew the Master was desperately seeking answers, trying to fill the gaping holes in his memory, needing to distinguish the difference between what was real and what was not.

She didn't want to answer. But she did. For his sake, because she loved him, she steadied herself, opened her eyes to meet his and made herself speak.

"That day...when I saw you...I'd just come from blowing the planet Trion to pieces," she whispered, the words coming slowly at first, but then faster and faster, gathering like a storm, rising up in her one after another, until she was almost gasping. "The Daleks...they made me watch, as they executed Turlough and all his people. I couldn't stop them. It was genocide. Hundreds of people – men, women and children - just turned into ash, blowing in the wind. The Daleks were planning to use my brainwaves as a key, to disrupt the transduction barrier on Gallifrey. They were going to send this enormous bomb through, to destroy everything, to wipe the Time Lords out of existence. But I...I managed to take control of it before it ever left Trion and I detonated it. I knew I would die too, but I didn't care. I was _glad_. The hate was so _strong_, so all-consuming. I just wanted to kill them all, every last Dalek, whatever the cost. Then a transmat sphere materialised, at the very last second, right before the explosion, and brought me back to Gallifrey. Trion was gone, Turlough and his people were gone, but hey,_ I_ was OK. Lucky me, I was still alive, and all because our people needed every last Time Lord to help fight their bloody War."

The story was hot in her mouth, untold for so long, now burning its way up from the depths of her soul. "I was taken into that War Room and I saw Rassilon and I thought I understood. I saw the coldness in his eyes and I thought I had found someone to blame apart from myself, someone who could have stopped it all from happening but, in his uncaring arrogance, chose not to. And then I looked towards the back of the room and I saw _him_...I saw the Doctor...and I knew it wasn't just Rassilon. My father had been part of the decision too, just like all the other Time Lords. Turlough was supposed to be his friend, but he still stood by and did nothing to help him – nothing to help _me_ - all for the sake of the 'greater good'."

Her fists clenched, the suffocating grief – the raw betrayal - as real to her now as it had been then. "Rassilon ordered me to take a battle TARDIS and lead an elite strike force into the heart of the War, to attack the Daleks where it would hurt them the most. It was a suicide mission and I knew it. But I agreed. Because the moment I saw the Doctor in that room, I realised that nothing meant anything, nothing mattered any more. Nothing except the hate. And the need to get revenge, for Turlough."

She raised her eyes defiantly to the Master's face. "_That's_ why I don't talk about it, especially to the Doctor. Because that's the day everything changed. That's the day I let the darkness inside and I became a killer. And now I can never go back."

Her voice trailed away into silence as she waited with a dull ache for his reaction. She wasn't sure what she expected from him. A derogatory comment about the Doctor, perhaps...something scornful, something sarcastic. Or maybe some more sharp-edged questions, probing and hurtful, as he tried to piece together the tangled mess his own memories had become. Or perhaps, worst of all, he would unleash some more seething anger and rejection over her continued refusal to take down his mental blocks.

But to her complete surprise, he said nothing. Instead, he drew her towards him and held her close, cuddling her head into his shoulder like a child. She heard his double heartbeat under her ear, felt the soft, worn warmth of his hoodie against her cheek and realised with stunned amazement that he was actually trying to comfort her. Before she knew what was happening, tears of relief were sliding down her cheeks, as his hands stroked soothingly through her hair.

Her memory of that day had always been one of unremitting blackness and pain. But in the Master's protective arms, nestling close to him, she found an unexpected, unlooked-for release, an expiation, as though finally putting it into words had drawn out some of the bitter sting. And it suddenly struck her that, at last, after so long, she had found a reason for all that had happened. Because, if it had not been for that terrible day, her relationship with the Master would never have been possible. If she hadn't given into her own dark side, she would never have been able to understand and accept his.

Hart's voice rang in her head. _He's a dangerous man, Princess. And he's going to end up destroying you._

Sheltered in the Master's embrace, she pushed the words away, the warning that had seemed so disturbing such a short time ago suddenly insignificant. It was true, he _was_ a dangerous man. And perhaps he would end up destroying her. She knew the risk she was taking in being with him - she had always known it. But how much better was it to take that risk than to return to the aching emptiness her life had been before him?

The Master tilted her head up to him, his brown eyes intent and searching, his mouth close enough to almost brush hers. "Did you love Turlough?" he asked, his tone taut in a way that she had come to recognise meant that he was steeling himself against whatever the answer might be.

She swallowed hard, more tears spilling down her cheeks as she thought of the sneaky, unreliable red-headed boy she had watched grow into such a strong, brave, worthy man. She remembered the teasing and laughter between them on board the TARDIS in the old days; the long, lazy mornings in bed together when she lived with him on Trion; the times she had persuaded him to escape from his official court duties for a stolen day picnicking by the river; the way he had begged her to marry him over and over again, sometimes jokingly, sometimes serious, never giving up even though she had kept on refusing him; the courage and pride he had shown in leading the resistance against the invading Daleks, staunchly fighting right up until the very end, when they had vaporised him into nothing more than floating atoms...

"I cared about him very much," she said in a low, broken voice.

The Master's expression tightened. "That's not what I asked you."

For a moment she struggled between telling him the truth and her loyalty to Turlough's memory. But then, seeing the look on his face, she realised that this was no casual question – he was asking because he needed to know. Unable to ignore the demand in his gaze, she said, "If you mean, could he make my pulses race and my skin burn with just a glance, then no, he couldn't. If you mean, when I was with him, did I feel like there was nothing else I would ever need to make me happy, then no, I didn't. And if you mean, was he the one I wanted to be with forever, no matter what happened, then no, he wasn't. I've only ever loved one man that way, Koschei...and that's you."

"Ana..." he said, his voice suddenly thick and choked, his eyes full of longing for the years they had lost, of regret for things that couldn't be changed.

His lips closed hard over hers, his mouth as dominant and demanding as always. But somehow she didn't care – it was _him. _This was the way he would always be and she didn't want anything else. Without thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, welcoming his tongue deep into her mouth. Passion erupted between them, fierce and powerful, like a summer storm. His hands travelled down over her body, sliding sensuously over the silk of her slave-garment, making her gasp with the sheer possessiveness of his touch.

_I want you,_ his voice said in her mind. _Here. Now._

She shivered, every part of her screaming for the warmth of his caress and the heat of his body on her skin and deep inside. The touch of his hands felt so good. Almost too good. She wasn't at all sure she should be doing this, not with so much unresolved between them.

_I thought you were angry with me? _she ventured, feeling the overwhelming heat of his desire flooding her consciousness though the psychic link and desperately trying not to drown in it.

_I am. Very angry._

With a stab of shock, she realised it was true. His anger was still there, the fury at her defiance, simmering away in the back of his mind like a lava pool of bitter resentment. Suddenly chilled, almost afraid, she tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let her go.

_Whatever the Doctor did doesn't change anything between us, _he told her._ I still love you, Ana, and I always will, no matter how much we fight. There's nothing in the Universe I wouldn't do to keep you with me. I don't ever want to be without you._

Tejana faltered, all her restraint vanishing at the raw need she felt in him, nine hundred years of loneliness crying out to her in his voice.

_You won't ever have to be, Koschei, _she promised with all her hearts._ Not ever._

After that, there were no more words. He eased her back on the sandy ground, his body commanding her small one, lean and powerful and strong. He started to kiss her again, gently at first, but then harder and more urgently, until he lifted her against him, entwining their bodies together. His hand slipped slowly up her bare leg, stroking and exploring until she was twisting under him in frantic desire.

Just then, an amused cough interrupted them. Startled, they pulled apart, only to see John Hart standing in the entrance to the cave, a wide grin on his face.

"Oh, don't stop on my account!" he mocked. "It was just getting interesting."

The Master growled low in his throat with extreme frustration. "You have a lousy sense of timing, Hart!" he gritted out.

"Good to see you back in the land of the living, Blondie," Hart answered, walking towards them with his usual swagger. "You don't waste much time, do you? A man after my own heart." He shot a laughing glance at Tejana, who was blushing furiously. "I would have offered to join in, but I quite like my teeth where they are."

"Oh, shut up!" she hissed in embarrassment, pulling her short skirt back down as far as she could.

"Now, now, Princess, don't be like that!" he scolded, holding something out to her. "I come bearing gifts. Here."

For a few seconds, she blinked at his hand uncomprehendingly, before realising that he was offering her a brace of rabbits, freshly skinned. Her stomach turned in disgust at the bloody, pink carcasses.

"What am I supposed to do with those?"

He snorted in derision. "Cook them, of course. What else?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "_Me?_"

"Well, I don't see any other women in here," he shrugged. "I caught 'em, you cook 'em - fair division of labour, Princess. Hurry up and get on with it, would you? I'm starving."

Fury boiled inside her at his chauvinistic assumption that, just because she was female, she would be the one to cook their meal.

"Oh, I get it. You Tarzan, me Jane, right?" she retorted, her tone edged with acid.

"Only if Blondie doesn't mind being the monkey," Hart grinned. Then, at the Master's glare, he added, "Oops. OK, probably not then."

Tejana was tempted to graphically illustrate just where he could stick his rabbits, but the truth was that her stomach was also beginning to rumble. In her role as a pleasure slave, she hadn't been permitted to eat anything at the feast back at Hart's stronghold. The last thing she had eaten had been the delicious stew at Mother Hulde's house on the previous evening. Her regeneration had more or less settled now, but the corresponding drop in her artron energy had left her feeling very hungry again.

And she supposed Hart had a point, no matter how annoyingly put – he _had_ managed to find them something to eat, just as he had promised. Wincing inwardly, she reached out her hand and gingerly took the rabbits from him. Her pride would never allow her to admit it to Hart, but she had no idea how to cook them. Cooking wasn't really her thing, full stop. She vaguely remembered watching the Discovery Channel when she was living on Earth – rabbits were generally roasted on a spit over a fire, weren't they?

She turned her back on Hart and haughtily walked across to the pile of kindling near the fire-pit. Pretending she knew what she was doing, she grabbed a couple of sturdy Y-shaped sticks and began to use her knife to scrape the bark from them. Hart watched for a few minutes, his eyes full of cool amusement at her clumsy efforts, before announcing he was going to feed the horses and retreating back outside.

The Master came over and squatted beside her, gently taking the knife from her grasp.

"Here, let me," he said wryly. "You're only going to cut your hand off and regrowing it isn't an option any more."

Tejana relinquished the knife gratefully, careful not to touch him. The air between them was still electric with unfulfilled need, hot and primitive and carnal. She knew it wouldn't take much to reignite their barely-restrained desire. But with Hart lurking nearby, she had no intention of allowing things to get out of hand again, however much she wanted it.

While the Master set the spit up over the fire, she tended to the rabbits, pegging their fore and hind legs together with improvised wooden stakes, ready to roast over the glowing coals. It wasn't the most pleasant thing she had ever done. For some reason, the smell of the fresh blood really bothered her, a stinging wave of nausea welling up in her throat.

"I'd kill for some lemon drops," she said suddenly, her mind drifting longingly to the sharp, tangy flavour of the miniature lemon-shaped sweets, imagining the refreshing bitter-sweet taste on her tongue.

The Master looked at her oddly. "Lemon drops?" he echoed.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Weird, right? I'd just really like some right now."

"First eggs and now lemon drops," he said, placing the skewered rabbits over the fire as he spoke. "Do you usually get peculiar food cravings when you regenerate?"

She shook her head. "No, I never have before. But I suppose every regeneration is different."

_Anything has to be better than eating these horrible rabbits_, she thought to herself, watching them rotate greasily on the crudely-formed spit.

The rabbits were certainly not an unqualified success, even when they were cooked. Tejana had forgotten – or perhaps had never known – that you were supposed to allow the flames to die down into live coals before roasting anything over a fire. As a result, an hour later, the outside of the carcasses were somewhat charred, while the insides remained a bit pink and raw-looking.

Hart poked at his portion dubiously, before putting some of it in his mouth.

"Remind me to do the cooking myself next time, Princess," he remarked in a surly tone. "What do you Time Lords eat on your planet anyway? Protein pills?"

"Mostly fresh fruit and vegetables, actually," Tejana replied icily. "After all, the need to gorge oneself on slaughtered animals is such a _primitive_ trait. And if we're ever unfortunate enough to have to eat together again, you can certainly do the cooking – feel free!"

Hart winked at the Master. "Mate, I'm hoping for your sake she's better in bed than she is in the kitchen, otherwise you're in for a rough life."

"I've got no complaints," the Time Lord replied dryly. "Or I wouldn't have, if you'd taken a bit longer to catch your damn rabbits."

Tejana gave them both a black scowl, but refused to rise to the bait. Despite her hunger, she had found herself unable to eat much of the unappetising meal in the end, a fact which had not improved her deteriorating mood. While the two men finished their food, she busied herself instead by cleaning the gash in the Master's forehead with some of their precious water supply.

"So do I get my wound looked at too?" Hart asked, tossing the bones of his rabbit into the fire with a flourish. "Or is Blondie the only one to benefit from your Florence Nightingale routine?"

She rolled her eyes in angry exasperation. "You never give up, do you?"

"As it happens, Princess, I'm not joking," he answered, a slight edge in his voice. "It really hurts."

Tejana glanced over at him in surprise. Sure enough, blood was steadily seeping from the knife-wound the Master had inflicted on him, oozing through the makeshift bandage he had applied back at the stronghold and staining his jeans a dark, dull red colour. Obviously his recent exertions had re-opened the wound. Even though his expression was as cocky as ever, she noticed for the first time that he was white around the lips, his mouth compressed in pain. Tejana's gaze shifted back to the Master, meeting his eyes in silent query. He paused for a moment, scrutinising the other man closely, and then gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Having Hart bleed to death before they found the TARDIS was not part of his plan.

Reluctantly, she moved across to the ex-Time Agent. "You'll need to get those trousers off," she told him curtly.

"Thought you'd never ask," he quipped with an insolent, lop-sided smirk.

"And I'll need something to re-dress the wound," she continued, ignoring him as if he hadn't spoken.

His hands moved to the button on his jeans, sliding them down his legs. "There should be fresh bandages in a tin on the ledge over there. This isn't the first injury I've had since I've been on Mnemosyne. Be prepared, that's always been my motto."

"Yeah, you're a real galactic boy scout, Hart," she said sarcastically, reaching for the tin.

Kneeling beside him, she examined his injury. It was bleeding freely, but so far there didn't seem to be any obvious sign of infection. She cleaned it as best as she could with her limited supplies, her fingers deft and gentle. She could feel him flinching in pain under her ministrations, but he didn't make a sound. Despite her absolute loathing of the man, she couldn't help admiring his backbone.

"Hey, Princess, I take it all back," he said, his voice suddenly deep and warm, like velvet. "Maybe you are good for something after all. You've got an amazing touch. Soft. And soothing. And sexy as hell."

Tejana's cheeks flooded with colour. Under her hands, his leg was strong and muscular and very male. It felt strange enough to be touching him so intimately, without him purposely making it even more uncomfortable. Especially with the Master watching.

"Don't push your luck, Hart," the other Time Lord growled, his tone layered with danger. "Or I'll be happy to give you a matching wound in the other knee."

A knowing smile passed over Hart's face but he didn't reply. Tejana finished bandaging his leg as quickly as she could, just wanting to get it over with, to defuse the tension building in the over-heated room.

"You'll live," she said, pointedly turning her back as he pulled his trousers back up. "Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen."

"I'm touched by your sympathy and concern," Hart returned, flexing his leg carefully. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." He slanted an oblique, unreadable look at Tejana. "Thanks for your help, Princess. But it's getting late. Why don't you two get your heads down for a while? I'll take the first watch."

The Master nodded curtly and got to his feet. "'Night then."

Taking Tejana firmly by the hand, he led her away from Hart, away from the fire, back into the depths of the cave where her travelling cloak was still spread on the ground.

Hart watched them go, his eyes mocking. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kids."

_One of us should keep an eye on him, Koschei, _Tejana warned silently. _He can't be trusted. We shouldn't turn our backs on him._

_Until we find the TARDIS, he needs us, _the Master replied, pulling her down on to lie on the cloak with him. _He won't try anything._

Tejana wasn't so sure. Everything about Hart set her teeth on edge, leaving her feeling unsettled and uneasy. She glanced back towards the fire, seeing his dark silhouette sitting motionless, like a statue, staring into the flames. With an unexpected rush of empathy, she couldn't help wondering what unwanted memories Mnemosyne had uncovered for him.

But then the Master began to kiss her neck, just above the silver slave collar, his hands moving to caress her breasts in the dark. Tejana moaned softly, a thousand sparks of pleasure erupting across her skin.

_Koschei, we can't. Not with him here._

His frustration was almost tangible through the psychic link, his mind full of all the things he wanted to do but couldn't.

_Yeah, I know._

He sighed heavily and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, settling her comfortably into their usual sleeping position.

_When this is all over, I'm going to take you ice-skating on the planet Xelha. Nothing but a smooth expanse of glittering green ice, as far as the eye can see. And overhead, the Northern Lights, rippling across the sky like a blanket of fire. You'll love it, Ana._

Tejana sighed too, thinking longingly of all that cool ice, such a contrast to the sticky, humid atmosphere of Mnemosyne. She wished with both her hearts that it would be as simple as that, wished that she could believe he meant what he was saying.

_I thought you were heading off to kill the Doctor when we leave here._

She felt rather than heard his soft laughter. _After that_, he amended. _Now, go to sleep._

Hearing the subtle but real undertone of humour in his mental voice, a glow of hope sprang to life deep inside her. Perhaps everything would be all right after all. Perhaps they would be able to find the Doctor and sort everything out without any conflict between the two men she loved.

Curled in his arms, she drifted off to sleep. And in her dreams, no tragic memories came to haunt her. Instead, she glided rapturously across a sparkling ice-field, hand-in-hand with the Master, under a sky of fiery rainbows.

Until she woke up with a sudden jerk, to see Captain John Hart hovering over her, his expression intent with murderous purpose, a razor-sharp knife gleaming in his hand. Before she could do anything to defend herself, the blade sliced downwards, descending towards her face, her scream of horror tearing through the still night air.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Here I am, back again! Thank you very much everyone who reviewed last time, especially all the people who were kind enough to send me "get well" wishes. Haven't had the best week, actually, but I'm feeling better today! Especially as I'm very glad to finally have this chapter done.  
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**_So, big wave to - padmay97, EmmaMarie, Lady Brid (x 2), Faldora Estrazi, Romana-II, missawesome1213, Aietradaea, BiggerontheInside95, Imorgen, irishartemis, MayFairy, LostyKitty, noideagirl, Dryu, SaxonSong, crazychika495 (x 2), KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, GoddessofShadows, tardisandafirebolt (you have your old name back - yay, I love it!), PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes, Lost Moon, xxTeam-Masterxx (x 2), allonymity and Geraldine._**

**_To Lady Brid - Thanks so much for your well-wishes and I hope you had a terrific holiday! LOL about your opinion of John (I have to say I have a bit of a soft spot for the bad boys of the Whoniverse myself). I'm very happy my cliffie has teased you so much and I hope you enjoy the resolution of it in this chapter ;). Thanks for your reviews, I honestly love to receive them._**

**_To Faldora Estrazi - Thank you for reviewing, it was truly lovely to hear from you and to know how much you are enjoying it. That sort of encouragement just inspires me to write more and more and more XXX_**

**_To Dryu - Thanks for popping over to review again, wonderful to have you and I'm very happy you liked it. Hope you like this chappie too!  
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_**To SaxonSong - Loved your review, it made me laugh. I have been resting, but it does tend to get a bit boring :( Thank you very much for saying I am as evil as the Master, I take that as a real compliment! You are right, Hart does tend to shoot himself in the foot A LOT. Perhaps one day he will learn his lesson, eh? LOL, I am actually not against smut in general, I'm just against ME writing smut, because I'm not sure I can do it without sounding silly - however, there certainly may be some more opportunities in this fic, that is all I'm sayin' (SPOILERS). And lastly, there is some more of the Master's brother in this chapter, so hopefully that gets me off the hook there :) I really hope you decide to review again, I really love funny, entertaining reviews, they are great - thankyou!**_

_**Lost Moon - As always, thank you, you rock XXX**_

_**Geraldine - Thanks so much and just in time, here's my update, LOL.**_

_**Whew, after all that, just a little bit more news (sorry) - I've actually been a busy little bee and have written an Amy/Rory two-shot called "Waiting All Over Again" and I've also started posting a short story called "Exelica". If anyone has time to check those out and review, I would be forever grateful!**_

_** Also, for all those who thought Ana and the Master should have got a bit more cosy in the cave, the amazing Aietradaea has written another chapter on her "One Moment in Time" parody fic, "Time Waits for No Woman", where they manage to temporarily do away with John Hart to get some private time - it's very funny, check out the link on my profile!**_

_**All right, now that I've nearly doubled my word count just from the A/N, here is the actual chapter! Cheers, everyone!  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER SIXTEEN<strong>

The Master knew something was wrong, well before he heard Tejana scream. Centuries of living life on a knife-edge had honed his senses to razor sharpness. Like any true predator, he never fully relaxed, even in sleep. Without pausing to open his eyes, acting on sheer instinct, he held Tejana hard against him and rolled them both to one side, flinging them out of the path of the oncoming blade. Then he was on his feet, already reaching into his pocket for his laser screwdriver, only to remember with dismay that it had been lost in the dam incident, sinking beyond his reach to the bottom of the river. Undaunted, he snatched up Tejana's knife from where it lay nearby and whirled menacingly back to face Hart, his entire body tensed into an aggressive fighting stance, more than ready to kill the other man.

To his surprise, Hart wasn't even looking at him, or at Tejana, who had scrambled to her knees behind him. Instead, the ex-Time Agent was tunelessly whistling through his teeth as he inspected the long blade of his knife, which appeared to be buried in something large and furry, just inches from where Tejana's head had lain such a short time before.

"What the _hell _are you doing?" the Master bit out, taken aback by the other man's relaxed demeanour.

"Saving your girlfriend from having her pretty face eaten off, actually," Hart returned nonchalantly, loosening his knife from the ground and displaying it to the Time Lord. Impaled on the blade was a jet-black, hairy creature, about a foot wide, with eight scaly legs and an impressive set of pointed, white fangs. The thing was still in its death throes, twitching horribly, its viscid black blood staining the silver knife like repellent patches of dark mould.

"Arachnivore," Hart said in a calm voice. "Extremely venomous. And they love to suck the juices out of humanoid eye-balls. I've seen it happen before, to some of my men who weren't careful enough. It's not a pleasant sight, believe me – a very messy way to die. I figured you'd probably prefer your little woman to keep her beautiful green eyes intact, yes?"

Slowly, the Master lowered his weapon. Behind him, he heard Tejana take in a long, shuddering breath. Flicking a concerned glance over his shoulder, he saw that her face was as pale as paper, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the hideous spider-creature, her imagination obviously going into over-drive as she registered the gory fate she had so narrowly avoided.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Hart hurled the arachnivore corpse through the air towards the heart of the fire, where it landed in the flames with a sizzling sound. A disgusting smell of scorched fur permeated the air, making Tejana turn her head sharply away with her hand clamped over her nose and mouth, gagging audibly.

Hart grinned, clearly enjoying her distress. "So, Princess," he taunted. "Trust me yet?"

Tejana climbed shakily to her feet without answering his question. Her face was drawn and tight, her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to stop herself from trembling. "I _hate_ this planet," she said curtly, stalking past Hart without looking at him. "I'll take the next watch."

"Yeah, you're welcome, babe," Hart commented sarcastically. "Any time."

But she didn't reply, pointedly turning her back to him as she took a seat by the fire.

Hart shrugged and returned his attention to the Master. "So, Blondie, looks like it's just you and me now," he leered, raising his eyebrows and ogling the other man suggestively. "Which side of the bed do you prefer?"

The Master merely gave him a cold, contemptuous stare, edged with warning, before following Tejana across to the fire, where he thrust the knife into the ground within easy reach beside him, a silent but unmistakable threat.

"You Time Lords really need to learn to loosen up a bit!" Hart mocked in a lazy voice, stretching his long, lithe form out on Tejana's cloak, making himself perfectly comfortable. "None of you have any idea how to have _fun_!"

* * *

><p>Kelios stood before the black altar in the centre of the Temple, the intricately carved snake-symbol of the Pythia almost seeming to writhe and slither across the obsidian surface in the mysterious, flickering torchlight. He drew in a deep breath, revelling in the secrets he knew lay beneath his feet, concealed for centuries. Raising his head, he looked gloatingly around the dark, echoing chamber, the ancient walls that had seen so much blood and agony and death. Overhead, the roof was open to the fading stars, the pale, rosy fingers of dawn stroking gently across the sky.<p>

_Soon_, he mused eagerly to himself. Soon he would bring it all to life again. Soon this place...this _vessel_...would be restored to its former glory. It would rise again and then Time itself would bend to his will, as it had come so close to doing once before.

But first, he needed to renew himself. Raising his hands to his hood, he pushed it back, feeling the age encroaching steadily across his failing flesh, all pretence of youth gradually falling away, his skin cracking and shrivelling like a long-dead corpse. His eyes dropped without mercy to the ceremonial circle of kneeling men surrounding him, each of them chained in place, each of them guarded by one of the strange transparent creatures that served him so faithfully.

_The Gift. _The means by which he had retained his youth and vigour throughout the centuries, each year carefully harvesting the best and the strongest of the pathetic humans available to him on this loathsome planet, annually using his Pythian birth-right to steal their life-force to renew his own.

A small sneer stretched his mouth as he reflected on how similar his own life-giving rites were to the Time Lord resurrection ceremony. Even after all this time, the comparison still both amused and angered him. The Time Lords had always been so quick to condemn any kind of magic or superstition, so proud of their scientific knowledge and advanced technology – and yet so much of their society had been deeply rooted in the old ways, their formal ceremonies adapted from the arcane rituals of the Dark Times, when the Pythia had ruled Gallifrey.

_Hypocritical fools_, he thought bitterly. How many times had that same resurrection ceremony, leeched from the blood and heritage of his mother's people, brought his hated half-brother back from the other side? How many times had Koschei used Pythian lore to cheat death?

_Too many times. But never again._

His eyes flicked pitilessly from face to face, noting with satisfaction the terror in the eyes of his human captives. This was the last time he would need to lower himself to draining these _peasants_. They were right to fear, these twelve men, for what was about to happen to them would immerse them in a pain well beyond their limited mortal comprehension.

Involuntary anger licked through him again. _Twelve _men. The Time Lord resurrection ceremony required only _six_. But Kelios was not, and never had been, a Time Lord. Despite the fact that he was the first-born son of one of the richest and most influential members of the Gallifreyan High Council, he had never been permitted to study at the Time Lord Academy. Despite his undeniable scientific brilliance, more than comparable to that of his younger half-brother, he had never been given any sort of status in Gallifreyan society. He had never been granted a cycle of regenerations, never been permitted to access the psychic link, never been allowed to pilot a TARDIS. To the Time Lords he had always been nothing more than a Shabogan, a shabby, inconsequential nobody, a half-breed, a _bastard. _An outcast to be courted when his unique talents were required, such as during the dire straits of the Time War, but otherwise to be ignored and treated with haughty scorn for his low and vulgar birth, even by his own father.

_Oh, but Lord Oakdown had paid dearly for his pride and arrogance, had he not?_

Biding her time, Kelios' mother, Aminestra, had patiently wormed her way into Rassilon's good graces during the Time War. Carefully concealing her contempt for the newly-restored President of the Time Lords, she had allowed him to use her Pythian powers of pre-cognition as he chose, proving her worth to him as a Visionary over and over again, until he trusted her implicitly. Then, when the time was right, she had ruthlessly shown him the truth about Koschei of the House of Oakdown, about what he would become, about what his _son_ would become. How – unless the Lord President acted to change history – the Time War would never come to pass and Rassilon himself would never be resurrected. Therefore, at Aminestra's instigation, the four beats had been sent back through time to the Untempered Schism, twisting the past to infect the Master's mind as a child, not just creating a tangible link between Gallifrey and Earth in the future, but also changing history for all time, sealing the fate of the Universe within the never-ending cycle of a recursive paradox.

And so the House of Oakdown had fallen, its only heir condemned to a tortured life of evil and hatred and darkness and pain, stripped of his birth-right and his sanity, denied everything he could have been, his future utterly destroyed.

Kelios thought back on the many slights and humiliations he had suffered on Gallifrey as the bastard, unacknowledged son of Lord Oakdown, his face twisting in hatred and glee, the malevolent expression accentuating the deep, crawling cracks that were beginning to open up across his wasted skin. Once before, he had savoured the satisfaction of seeing his brother's potential wife and child taken from him. Now it seemed he would have the pleasure of enjoying it all over again.

As his prisoners watched in fear and dread, Kelios raised his withered hands high, offering a chased silver urn in obeisance before the dark altar. Then, trembling in in ecstasy, he poured out the mystical blue liquid in a shimmering stream, the viscous substance seething and bubbling as it anointed the ancient, serpentine symbol of the Pythia.

"Mother, blessed Aminestra, I bring you the Potion of Life," he hissed.

As he spoke, whorls of dark cloud began to form overhead, manifesting out of the clear dawn sky, gyring in an escalating maelstrom, streaked with savage bursts of lightning.

The prisoners looked upward in horror, their bodies frozen in a position of supplication as though turned to stone.

"Now, I claim the right of my blood," Kelios screamed, throwing his head back. "As the last descendent of the Pythia, I call upon all the powers of darkness...restore me! _Duroc minas mill khabaal!_ _DUROC MINAS MILL KHABAAL!_"

A blinding whirlwind of white light seemed to leap upwards from the fulminating liquid upon the altar, engulfing Kelios from head to toe. At the same time, a furious, spinning vortex spiralled down from the obsidian clouds, slowly sucking glowing ribbons of life energy from the agonised prisoners and channelling it into the glittering energy field surrounding Kelios.

When at last the brilliant luminescence faded away, twelve bodies lay slumped in a circle on the ground, their lives snuffed out like fragile candle flames.

Kelios smiled as the final sparkles of light left him, baring his teeth in fierce joy as he felt the life surging and pulsing beneath his skin. He had been completely rejuvenated by the power embodied within the unnatural storm.

_Surely THIS was how the Time Lords felt when they regenerated. So youthful. So powerful. So INVINCIBLE._

His hands moved to his face, smoothing his fingertips over his familiar features, now taut and unblemished, knowing he looked exactly as he had centuries ago, when he first met his despised half-brother in the tavern in Low Town.

He stared out over the carnage on the floor, dispassionately inspecting the twelve bodies of the men he had murdered to restore his life-force. He could sense the translucent slave-creatures shifting restlessly, eager to feed, but holding themselves in check as they awaited his command. The air almost vibrated with their intense, ravenous hunger.

"You may consume the remnants," he said in an icy voice, before turning away into the Inner Sanctum, uninterested in the gruesome sight of the bodies being torn apart.

Before long, the floor of the Temple of the Pythia ran red with blood.

* * *

><p>It had been a miserable night. The close proximity of the fire made the already unpleasant heat even more unbearable, but Tejana didn't dare to leave the protection of the brightly-dancing flames. Instead, she had sat stiffly in the curve of the Master's arm, staring into the fire, forcing herself to remain awake and alert, jumping at every little sound. She had never realised how many spooky, scuffling, scrambling noises there were at night in an echoing cave. Every time she heard something, she was sure it was another one of the hairy, eyeball-sucking arachnivores creeping through the shadows towards them. She shuddered as she pictured the hideous beast impaled on the end of Hart's knife – it was as though all her recurring spider nightmares had been rolled into one, only worse, because this had been real. She moved closer to the Master, loving the way his arm tightened reassuringly around her, the comforting press of his lips on the top of her head.<p>

_Just a little while longer, _she kept telling herself. _Just a few more hours and we'll be back in the TARDIS._

To add insult to injury, the sound of Hart's deep, regular snoring rumbled contentedly from the back of the cave. Tejana couldn't help feeling a wave of annoyance. She knew she was being unfair. After all, however much she disliked and distrusted Hart, the man _had_ saved her life and she had given him no thanks whatsoever. If Jack had been here – if _Jack_ had saved her in the same way that Hart just had – she knew she would have thrown her arms around him in an overwhelming surge of relief and gratitude. But Hart wasn't Jack. And, instead of feeling grateful, she found herself blaming him, angry that he had exposed her fear of spiders and resentful that he had now managed to place her in his debt. She didn't want to owe him any favours..._ever_.

All in all, she couldn't wait for a new day, desperately looking forward to her escape from this awful planet and her release from Hart's unwelcome company. However, much to her dismay, the arrival of the dawn only made things worse. Even as the darkness receded and rays of rosy light began to glimmer in the narrow entrance to the cave, the air seemed to thicken, as though it was infused with static electricity. An immense clap of thunder exploded overhead, frightening in its intensity.

In the back of the cave, Hart's snoring cut off abruptly as he sat bolt upright, startled out of his sleep. The Master was already on his feet in a blur of movement, heading for the entrance. Tejana followed him, her stomach twisting in apprehension. Outside, she found him looking up, staring at the sky. An untidy mess of turbid black cloud roiled above them, shot through with silver lightning. Another deep, juddering roll of thunder boomed across the heavens. Tejana drew in her breath, sharply reminded of the furious storm that had torn through through The Matrix on the Last Day of Gallifrey. It was not so much the storm itself as the feeling it engendered – eerie, oppressive, unnatural, _wrong_...

The Master felt it too. She could tell from the disturbed expression on his face, as well as the tension emanating from him through the psychic link. He had his head tilted slightly, almost as if he was listening for something.

"Koschei, what is it?" she asked, slipping her hand into his.

His gaze swung down to meet hers, but his brown eyes were distant and unfocused. "I don't know," he replied shortly. "But I don't like it."

"It's just a storm," Hart's voice cut in from behind them. "Common enough on Mnemosyne. It's the heat."

Tejana turned towards him. His attention was also fixed on the sky, his handsome face as bland and unrevealing as ever. But something about the timbre of his voice bothered her – it was too rough, too abrasive, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as his companions. And his eyes weren't amused any more – something else moved in their depths, something very like..._fear_?

"What's going on?" she snapped. "What aren't you telling us, Hart?"

"Like I said, Princess, it's just a storm," he answered dismissively. "Nothing to get worked up about. Now, come on, let's get moving."

With that, he retraced his steps back into the cave and Tejana could hear him kicking sand over the remains of the fire, an odd, jerky kind of urgency in his movements.

"He's lying," she murmured to the Master.

The other Time Lord was still staring at the obscenely-heaving mass of bruise-dark clouds, a deep frown etched between his brows. "Yeah," he agreed, tightening his grip on her hand. "Let's just find the TARDIS and get out of here."

* * *

><p>There had been no rain. After a while, the weird clouds had dispersed as suddenly as they had come, taking the thunder and lightning with them, leaving the skies clear and blue and hot. Tejana felt a sharp sting of disappointment. Some rain would have cooled things down, as well as perhaps helping to ease the coiling tension in the air.<p>

Hart's new, inexplicable sense of urgency persisted throughout their journey that morning, continuing to unsettle her still further. He had their small amount of gear packed and loaded aboard the horses well before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. Then he proceeded to lead the way along the winding path through the hills at a much faster pace than she remembered from the day before. Of course, she reasoned, they _were_ able to travel more quickly now that she didn't have to be concerned about jolting and possibly harming the unconscious Master. But she had been observing Hart closely and she had seen him glance uneasily over his shoulder more than once, as if he was checking to see if they were being followed.

The uncomfortable, prickling feeling of being watched skittered across her skin once again. She wanted to ask the Master if he felt it too but, since the storm, he had subsided into a morose, uncommunicative silence which she was reluctant to break. They were riding together on her horse once more, but this time she sat in front, with his arms securely around her and his hands on the reins. She had opened her mouth to protest – after all it was _her _horse - but then she had closed it again, guessing she would be wasting her time. In his current abstracted mood he was unlikely to listen. She could feel him methodically testing the boundaries of his mind, as if he thought he could shake the memory blocks loose himself, just as he had found and exploited the weak points in the dam wall.

Both her hearts clenching in sympathy for him, Tejana tried to reach out once more for the Doctor, but again with no success. This time, she wasn't sure if her failure to contact her father was because of her recent regeneration or because something else was blocking her. The psychic link wasn't always reliable. Sometimes she just couldn't find him, no matter how hard she tried. _Like when the Daleks had come to Trion. _She pushed the painful thought away with a savage thrust, not wanting to acknowledge the tiny shiver of premonition that trickled up her spine. The Master's arms were firm and strong and real around her. She leant her head back against the warmth of his chest. She _wasn't_ going to lose him, the same way she had lost Turlough. It would never happen again - never ever again - because she wouldn't let it. She just_ wouldn't._

Unable to completely shake her morbid train of thought, she was more than delighted when they finally emerged from the hills in the middle of the afternoon, only to see the familiar fields up ahead, the golden ears of wheat gleaming in the sunshine.

"This is it!" she cried, recognising the dirt road they were riding on as the one she had walked down to reach the village.

Slipping down from the horse's back, she easily spotted her own tiny bare footprints in the crusted mud at the side of the road, overlaid in places by the Master's larger, heavier boot-marks. Following the trail backwards, she soon located the path of broken stalks leading away into the crop of wheat.

"Here!" she called excitedly, happiness and relief and hope soaring through her. "This is where we crossed the field. The TARDIS should be just over there."

Still seated on horseback, the two men shaded their eyes against the glaring sunlight and looked out over the swaying fields.

"I'll admit that I have no idea what I'm supposed to be looking for," Hart shrugged. "But I can't see anything."

"It's a tall, blue box with a light on top," the Master replied in a curt tone. "We shouldn't be able to miss it. But I can't see it either."

Tejana's mouth went dry. "No," she said. "No, it has to be there. It has to be. This is the place."

Whirling around, she began to race across the field, retracing the narrow path she had made two days before, ignoring the long green leaves that slapped her in the face as she ran. She could hear the Master and Hart calling to her, but she didn't stop or even slow down. All she wanted was to be back inside the familiar, comforting, protective womb of the TARDIS. But there was no heartening flash of blue through the green and gold stalks, no warm psychic hum in the back of her mind welcoming her home. Almost sobbing now, she ran even faster, stumbling and nearly falling, refusing to accept the awful truth that was slowly dawning on her.

Until she came to the deep, empty, rectangular impression in the ground where the TARDIS had landed. Staring at the tell-tale hole in disbelief, she sank to her knees, a dull roaring flooding through her ears.

"It's gone!" she whispered sickly. "Oh gods, the TARDIS is really gone!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Another Author's Note: <em>**

**_1. Just in case anyone is wondering, the words spoken by Kelios when he is summoning the powers of Darkness, "Duroc Minas Mill Khabaal", are taken from the demonic words repeated by the possessed Owen Harper in the Torchwood episode "Dead Man Walking"._**

**_2. If anyone is unclear about the part where Rassilon changes history to wipe out the Master's future with Tejana, thereby ensuring the Time War takes place, I suggest you re-read the vision of the Could-Have-Been-King in Chapter 18 of "So Many Things Should Have Been Different"._**

_**Thanks very much for reading - please review, as I'd love to hear your opinion. It lets me know if my writing is still up-to-scratch or not :)**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Author's Note: Hello! Here's a relatively quick update, just to say thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter :)_**

**_So, to the following people, this one is for you:- padmay97, Romana-II, kari910, EmmaMarie, Imorgen, Dryu, Catelly x 2, NearlyHuman, MayFairy, Aietradaea, xxTeam-Masterxx, SawManiac211, missawesome1213, OhTex (x 2), nodieagirl, Lost Moon, xquith, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei and PhanPhic-Addict-Holmes. _**

**_To Dryu: Thanks again, you are so lovely!_**

_**To Lost Moon: That's such an amazing compliment, thank you. I love bending canon to fit my stories, that one of the main fun things about writing fan-fiction!**_

**_To idestiny: Thanks for the PMs, you are definitely better at being a fan than making salad, LOL (although I'm sure any salad you would make would be nice too!)_**

**_Righty-o, now, on to the warnings. The end of this chapter contains some sexual content. As usual with my fics (and you should be used to my style at this late stage in the series), it is not particularly graphic, but it is there. If that sort of stuff offends you, please don't read it. I don't want to get any reviews complaining that I made you feel uncomfortable - if I get any like that, I won't bother to answer them, because you have been warned. This is meant to be a romance, OK?_**

**_Having said that, fingers crossed that you DO read and enjoy! Cheers!_**

**_NB: This chapter is particularly dedicated to Catelly, who gave me the idea a long time ago ** Hugs **_  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN<strong>

"So...anyone got any bright ideas as to what might have happened?" Hart inquired, striding restlessly up and down the small ferny glade.

It had been far too dangerous to stay out in the open fields in broad daylight with the Lordsmen still fanatically searching for them, especially being so close to the village. So they had retreated back towards the hills, concealing themselves in a secluded forest glen in an attempt to regroup and work out what to do next.

Not that it made any difference where they were, Tejana thought dispiritedly. The TARDIS wasn't coming back.

She was seated on a large rock, her head in her hands, still trying to come to terms with the fact that they were stranded on this awful planet. The Master leaned against a nearby tree, his face as hard and as indecipherable as granite, while Hart couldn't seem to stay still, pacing around and around until Tejana just wanted to scream at him to sit down and shut up and let them _think_, for Gallifrey's sake. His obvious agitation only added to her alarm. The only other time she had seen the usually insouciant Time Agent this strung out – this _hyper_ - was back in Cardiff, when the explosive device had latched on to his DNA and was counting down what he thought were the last few minutes of his life. Whatever was on this planet, whatever it was that he wasn't telling them, for him to be this worried, it had to be bad.

"Someone must have found her," she said in answer to his question. "Somehow they've seen through the perception filter and picked her up and carried her away."

But Hart just shook his head. "I don't think so, Princess. There weren't any other tracks through the wheat – no wagon trail, no other foot-prints. Just yours and Blondie's."

Tejana went pale, the logic in his words striking her like a slap across the face. If the TARDIS had not been removed by external forces, then that meant...

"What did you do to the console, Ana?" the Master demanded tautly.

Her head whipped around in astonishment at the accusation in his tone. "_Me?_ What the hell are you talking about? I didn't _touch_ the console."

"You landed us here while I was sleeping. Why did you pick this planet? What have you done?"

"I haven't _done_ anything!" she retorted, anger rising inside her. "I was in the kitchen trying to find something to eat when we landed here. I had nothing to do with it!"

The Master frowned, his eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"

"I might not be a big, hot-shot engineering genius like you, Koschei, but I know how to fly a TARDIS!" she snapped. "I'll say it just one more time – I didn't go near the console. I thought _you_ had put her on auto-pilot with a pre-programmed destination."

"No. I left her cycling through the Time Vortex with no fixed destination." He flicked her a wry glance. "I kind of had other things on my mind at the time, if you recall."

"So if you didn't choose this planet...and I didn't..." she said, the words sticking in her suddenly dry throat. "Why exactly _did _we end up on Mnemosyne?"

"Because, for whatever reason, someone wants us here," the Master responded grimly. "Someone with enough knowledge of temporal engineering to hi-jack a TARDIS right out of the Time Vortex."

"But only another Time Lord..." Her voice trailed away into disbelief. "No, it's not possible. I would know if someone else survived the Time War. I would have sensed it within the psychic link, just like I did when Rassilon came back. There's only the three of us, we're the last!"

"So what are you suggesting? That _Daddy _grounded you?" Hart cut in, his tone laced with some of his old sardonic humour. "What, doesn't he like having Blondie as a potential son-in-law?"

"Of course I'm not suggesting that!" she said sharply. "The Doctor would never..." Then her eyes widened in shock as another thought struck her. "But he _did_ put those psychic blocks in place in your mind, Koschei. And he never does anything without a reason. This is the Planet of Memory! Oh gods, don't you see? We're being manipulated. Whoever this is, whoever's behind this, they _want _you to remember. They want whatever's hidden inside your head."

For a moment, the Master didn't seem to react. Then his gaze locked on to John Hart and he slowly tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck. The sudden sense of menace emanating from him was so tangible that Hart actually took a step backwards, his hand automatically moving to the butt of one of his blaster pistols.

The Master watched him, his eyes cold with threat. "I don't like being manipulated," he said, with zero inflection, but in a voice as dangerous as any blade. "So..._Captain John Hart_...basically, I suggest you start telling us the truth."

"The truth about _what_?" Hart blustered, wincing as he fought to resist the overwhelming strength of the Time Lord's will.

"That storm this morning, for a start," the Master snarled. "Because, you know what? It all felt very familiar to me. All that power swirling around in the air...it felt a lot like resurrection energy. And I think _you_ know what was going on."

Tejana gasped at his words. _Resurrection energy! _ So _that_ was what had disturbed the Master so much about the unnatural tempest. She had never been present at a Time Lord resurrection ceremony – she had no idea what resurrection energy felt like. But the Master had been resurrected at least twice before. If anyone could recognise the signs, it would be him. The blood seemed to turn to ice in her veins, her double pulse kicking into overdrive at the thought. If that had been resurrection energy, the question was, who or _what_ had been brought back? Because one thing she was sure of, it hadn't been a Time Lord.

She stared insistently at Hart, adding the pressure of her will to the Master's. Hart shifted uneasily, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them like a trapped animal.

"OK, OK, I'll tell you, for what it's worth," he said, capitulating at last. "All I know is, it happens every year at the same time, just after the Feast of Aminestra. Twelve of the fittest and strongest young men are selected from across the villages and taken to the Temple of the Pythia. They call it 'The Gift'. And every year, after the Gift is accepted at the Temple, there is a weird, uncanny storm like the one this morning."

A growl erupted from the Master's throat, dark with animosity. "Aminestra?"

"Yeah," Hart confirmed. "The five Keep Lords are really only puppets. The one who really rules Mnemosyne is the Dark Lord of the Temple. According to what I've heard, he's the one who instituted the Feast of Aminestra. And he's not someone you'd want to cross. The guy is freakin' creepy. No-one knows what happens to the twelve young men, they just disappear, never to be heard of again."

"I think I've got a fair idea," the Master replied flatly. "Who is this Dark Lord? What's his name?"

Hart shrugged. "No idea. Sorry. The less I know about that whack-job, the better."

"Oh, but soon you're going to know all there is to know," the Master smiled, his expression hard and tense. "Because you're going to take us to this Temple."

"Yeah? And what makes you think I'll do that?" Hart sneered. "What's in it for me? Apart from an excellent chance of getting killed, of course!"

The Master's eyes glittered like a snake's. "You want the TARDIS back, don't you? You want to get off this planet? This is the only way."

Hart hesitated briefly. Tejana could almost hear his devious brain ticking over as he sorted through his options. "All right," he agreed eventually. "I'll take you." He glanced up at the slanting rays of the afternoon sun. "We'll stay here tonight, where it's safe, and start out again first thing in the morning."

The Master nodded, apparently satisfied. "Fine."

Tejana eyed him in concern. She knew he was right – whatever was going on, the answers most likely lay at the mysterious Temple of the Pythia. Nevertheless, she was gripped by a strange anxiety at his choice. It was odd – she couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but for some reason she had the feeling that John Hart wasn't as reluctant to take them to the Temple as he pretended. If anything, his jittery behaviour seemed to have suddenly calmed at the Master's decision. Had they somehow been manipulated into this course of action as well? What was really waiting for them there?

"Koschei..." she began, getting to her feet.

But the Master was already moving away. "I'm going for a walk," he tossed back to her over his shoulder. "By myself. I need to think." With that, he disappeared into the cool, shadowy trees.

Tejana sighed and sank back down on to her rock, her shoulders slumped in misery at the renewed sting of his rejection.

"Trouble in paradise?" Hart mocked, moving over to sit next to her.

"He thinks it's my fault we lost the TARDIS," she said heavily. "And he's right. If I hadn't run off to look for eggs, so he had to chase after me, we probably would have picked up on the fact that someone else was controlling the TARDIS and we could have done something about it."

"Looking for eggs, huh?" Hart echoed with a comical expression. "I can understand that. Eggs are good. I've got into trouble over a lot of worse things than eggs."

Tejana gave a small snort. "You know, funnily enough, that doesn't surprise me."

He grinned and climbed back to his feet. "Guess I'd better try and find us something to eat then, since it looks like we're stuck with each other for a bit longer. No rabbit, right?"

"No rabbit," she confirmed emphatically.

"I'll do my best...which, of course, is usually completely amazing," Hart returned, sweeping her an exaggerated, self-confident bow. "If you're not too busy filing your nails, Princess, maybe you could gather some fuel for a fire. And we need some more water. The river's just to the east of us."

"The east of us?" she repeated in puzzlement. "I thought it was miles behind us, over the hills."

"Different river," he explained. "There's a lot of water on Mnemosyne – oceans, rivers, streams, even underground lakes. Apparently the entire core of the planet is formed of water."

Tejana wrinkled her nose. "All right, all right, enough of the geography lesson. I'll get the water. And the firewood."

"Good girl," he said condescendingly, heading for the trees.

"Hart!" she called sharply.

He turned back and looked at her inquiringly. "Yeah?"

"Why are you _really_ going with us to the Temple?"

He gave a short, sharp bark of laughter at the suspicion in her voice. "Still don't trust me, do you, Princess? It's like Blondie said – I don't have much choice. One way or another, the two of you are my ticket out of here. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Tejana watched him walk away, her sense of unease stronger than ever. _One way or another? _What the hell did that mean?

* * *

><p>The Master wandered aimlessly through the woods, concentrating fiercely as he tried to fit the pieces of the convoluted puzzle together. <em>The Pythia, Aminestra, Kelios, the Doctor, Gallifrey, the TARDIS, the Time War, Mnemosyne, his own fractured memories, Captain John Hart<em>...the fragments spun and danced in his mind, with no conceivable rhyme or reason. None of it made any sense.

Of course, that was because a large piece of the puzzle was still missing, concealed within his own head. He hadn't had any resurgence of lost memories for hours now. As Hart had predicted, the effect of the mnemosis appeared to be wearing off as time went on. At least the man appeared to have been telling the truth about that, if nothing else.

The Master considered the matter as carefully as he could. If Tejana was right, and somebody was trying to manipulate him into regaining his memory, he could be playing right into their hands by tearing down the Doctor's mental barriers. But right now, he felt like he was stumbling around in the dark, hamstrung by his lack of information. He needed a plan, a strategy to safeguard not just himself, but Tejana as well. And he couldn't do that unless he knew exactly what he was up against.

Reaching a decision, he seated himself on the ground as comfortably as possible, his back up against a sturdy tree trunk.

_He was the Master. He'd never accepted the Doctor's interfering help before and he wasn't about to start now. _

Closing his eyes, he began to breathe, intentionally drawing the contaminated air of Mnemosyne deep into his lungs.

* * *

><p><em>Falling backwards...the years reversing, rushing past him in a bewildering blur...then opening his eyes, only to see the metal walls of a shuttle-craft. It had just landed. He had arrived! At last, he was on board The Cruciform, his own command ship. He could feel a surge of triumph flooding through him, confidence singing in his veins. Whatever Rassilon's plan was, whatever hidden catch there was in this, he would turn it to his advantage. And in the end, he was the one who would be Master of All.<em>

_Slowly, the exterior door lowered, forming itself into a disembarking ramp. A small group of people awaited him in the ship's landing bay. The Master straightened his shoulders, knowing how impressive he looked in his battle uniform, tall and strong and commanding. He would soon show these pathetic underlings who was in charge. Before long, they would all be grovelling to please him._

_Moving to the door, he strode down the ramp. As he approached, one of the men detached himself from the group and came forward to meet him. The Master stared at him in shock, disbelief roaring in his ears. The man was tall and well-built, with handsome, arrogant features and closely cut dark hair. It was a face the Master had not seen since that ill-fated, long ago trip to Low Town with the Doctor during their Academy years, but it was one that had been bitterly seared on his memory ever since. Kelios, son of Aminestra, last descendant of the Pythia. His father's bastard son._

"_Greetings, brother," Kelios said, inclining his head calmly. "Welcome to The Cruciform."_

"_What is this?" the Master hissed in fury. "What the hell are you doing on board my ship?"_

_Kelios smiled and the hairs stood up on the back of the Master's neck. He knew that smile. It was a perfect replica of his own secretive, exultant expression, right before he did something catastrophic._

"_Didn't Rassilon explain? It was I who built this ship."_

"_YOU? A low-life Shabogan, building a Time Lord ship?" the Master scoffed._

_For a brief moment, savage contempt gleamed in the depth of Kelios' dark eyes, only to be skilfully camouflaged once more. "It has been many years since we have seen each other, Koschei. Much has changed. The technology arming this ship is my invention. I designed her, from the inside out, for one specific purpose."_

"_What purpose?"_

_Kelios bowed subserviently. "Why, for you, brother. Each and every part of The Cruciform, created with you in mind."_

_Suspicion curdled in the Time Lord's stomach. His half-brother's words were respectful enough, but the Master was far too familiar with hatred not to sense it lurking behind the man's speech, poised to strike like a scorpion's sting._

"_Don't try to play games with me, Kelios," he rasped. "What's the catch?"_

_Kelios shrugged serenely. "Catch? There is no catch. We have been enemies for too long, you and I, through no fault of our own, but owing only to the circumstances of our birth. In a War such as this, where all on Gallifrey face a common foe, such rifts should be resolved. The Cruciform is designed to combine our unique talents into something truly formidable, a force nothing in the Universe will be able to stand against. After striving against itself for so long, it is time for the House of Oakdown to take the place it deserves."_

_With that, he extended his hand towards the Master. "Come, Koschei. Seize your fate. Become everything you are destined to be."_

_For one brief moment, the Time Lord recoiled in horror, thinking he saw a tangle of maggots crawling beneath the other man's skin. But when he looked again, the hand was smooth and unblemished. Just as he had already surmised in the War Room, there was something very wrong with all of this. But for now, he had to play along and see where events took him. Once his control of The Cruciform was complete, it would be easy enough to dispose of Kelios._

_Reaching out, he took his brother's hand._

_And Kelios smiled._

* * *

><p>Tejana found the river without too much difficulty. Caught up in her own miserable thoughts, she wandered eastward through the woods for a short while, the water-skins slung around her neck, desultorily picking up sticks for the fire as she went. Before long, she heard the enticing sound of cascading water. Pushing her way through the waist-deep fringe of feathery ferns at the edge of the wood, she followed the bubbling, gushing noise until she found herself standing beside a wide, deep pool, continuously fed by a beautiful waterfall, the crystal clear water surging down over the rocks with a cool, mesmerising power. Golden rays of light streamed from the lowering sun, falling in a rippling veil across the water.<p>

The sight was perfect beyond description, a secret, hidden paradise usually found only in dreams. And yet, as she gazed at it, Tejana found herself racked with a sudden homesickness – not for Gallifrey, or even for the Master's TARDIS, but for her little flat in Cardiff. The glowing trail of light across the water reminded her poignantly of glorious summer sunsets reflecting across Cardiff Bay. She had returned briefly to her flat with the Master, just after they left the Ship of the Eternals, to pick up some of her things, but she had not been back since. Standing on this strange planet half a Universe away, she could picture each of the rooms so _clearly_ – the little green and white kitchen she always kept so obsessively neat; the cosy lounge-room with the big window looking out towards the Bay; the tiny white-tiled bathroom; the two small bedrooms, one containing her comfortable bed, the other full of the assorted junk she always seemed to collect, wherever she went.

And before she could stop herself, she found she was wondering wistfully what Jack was doing, if he was thinking of her. She clamped down on the thought immediately, pushing it crossly away. What did it matter if Jack was thinking of her or not? It was all John's fault. He was the one making her miss Jack, because every time she looked at him, she couldn't help wishing he _was_ Jack.

With a sad sigh, she dumped her armload of firewood on to the bank and pulled the water-skins from around her neck, ready to fill them from the pool. Her fingers slid across the silver collar, the cold touch of the metal reminding her that it was still fixed in place around her throat. She grimaced in disgust. Without the Master's laser screwdriver, they had no means to remove the slave jewellery, so for now it looked like she would just have to put up with the degrading collar and bracelets. It was yet another reason to hate this hot, stifling, miserable planet.

She glanced at the water-skins dangling loosely from her hands and then looked back at the temptingly cool water. It mightn't be Cardiff Bay, but even she had to admit it was beautiful. She felt so hot and sweaty and sticky. No-one was around. There would be no harm in having a quick swim before she returned to the campsite. She hesitated for a second longer and then tossed the water-skins on to the ground, before loosening the silver fastenings that held her silky tunic in place, allowing it to slide away. Her small sandals joined the pile of clothes and then she slipped into the glistening pool of water.

It felt wonderfully refreshing. She swam across the pool to the waterfall, feeling the scattered, rainbow-coloured drops pattering on her upturned face like jewelled rain, listening to the soothing sound of the tumbling water. It was all so unbelievably gorgeous.

_And yet...if it was all so perfect...then why was she crying?_

* * *

><p>Shaking his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain, the Master walked quickly through the woods. Part of his mind was still wrapped up in the memory vision he had just experienced. His sense of frustration was as sharp as a knife. On the one hand, he had learned a lot – enough to convince himself that, whatever the Doctor had sought to hide from him, it had something to do with the Time War and The Cruciform. On the other hand, he was really no further forward in determining exactly what that something was.<p>

The remaining part of his mind was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was lost. He hadn't paid any attention to where he was going when he left the campsite and now he had been wandering for quite some time, with no exact idea which way to go. Unperturbed, he eventually reached into the psychic link and used it to locate Tejana, the sixth sense guiding him unerringly towards her through the thick undergrowth. He could hear a river running nearby, the noise growing steadily louder as he got closer, as though the water was cascading down over a substantial drop.

At last he emerged from the trees on to the riverbank, beside a pool with a waterfall. Tejana was somewhere nearby, he could feel her presence as clearly as if she had called to him. A small pile of things lay in the grass at his feet. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he recognised Tejana's silk tunic and sandals. He looked out over the water and saw her. She was standing chest deep in the pool with her back to him, her heavy hair streaming wetly over her naked shoulders as she gazed up at the waterfall.

She knew he was there. She was as aware of him as he was of her. He waited for a few moments, but she didn't turn around. His eyes played over the tiny scrap of cream-coloured silk lying on the ground, remembering how she had felt in his arms on the cave floor the previous night, before Hart had interrupted. It didn't take much to relive the softness of her beneath him, the feel of her mouth, hot and wet under his, giving and taking, driving him wild...

In seconds, his own black clothing had joined hers on the grass, and he was swimming across to her. As he had expected, she sensed his approach long before he got close to her. But she still didn't turn around, even when he stood in the water right behind her.

"If you've come to tear a strip off me for losing the TARDIS, you can forget it," she said in a tight voice. "Because you can't blame me any more than I already blame myself, OK?"

With a pang, he realised she was keeping her back turned to him because she was crying and she didn't want him to see. Gently, he reached out and stroked the long, damp strands of copper hair trailing down her back.

"That's not what I came for."

She gave a surprised little sniff, surreptitiously trying to wipe the tears from her face without him noticing. "Then what _do_ you want, Koschei?" she asked flatly, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Because I'm too tired to argue with you right now."

In answer, he slid his hands down to her waist and pulled her back against him in one smooth movement, the cool water lapping around them in tiny wavelets. A gasp of shock escaped her lips as she felt the unexpected warmth of his naked skin against her own.

"I want _you_," he murmured possessively into her ear, capturing her firmly so she couldn't move. Then, lowering his voice to a mocking imitation of John Hart, he added, "I think we have some unfinished business, _Princess_."

Despite her evident unhappiness, he was pleased to see that she couldn't help laughing at his perfect mimicry of the arrogant Time Agent. He felt her tension start to ease, her head naturally falling back against his chest, as her body began to relax into his intimate embrace.

"Don't you start!" she warned with a small, uncertain smile. "_Blondie!_"

"Don't start what?" he inquired in a silky tone. "This?" His hands skated purposefully down her arms in a slow, sensual caress, holding her even closer to him, letting her feel just how much he wanted her. "Or this?" Tejana's breath rasped out of her in a shaky little sigh, the heat already escalating between them as his lips tugged at her earlobe and then grazed down the sensitive skin of her neck. "Or what about this?" His voice was thicker now, edged with undeniable need, as he lightly stroked her breasts, feeling them peak under his touch, alive and aching and wanting more.

Tejana moaned softly as his hands moved even lower, beneath the surface of the water. "Koschei," she whispered, a quiver of uncontrolled desire running through her like a current of electricity.

He made a low, harsh sound in the back of his throat, almost lost in the delicious sensation of touching her, revelling in the softness of her wet skin under his fingertips. She was so small, so delicate, so _fragile_...

"Does it feel good when I touch you, Ana? Tell me it feels good."

"So good!" she breathed. "Oh gods, Koschei, don't stop. Please, don't stop!"

He felt his body tighten in primal, urgent response to her words. Grasping her by the shoulders, he spun her around to face him. "Don't worry, this time I've got no intention of stopping!" he growled, before cradling the back of her head and catching her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. She sucked his lower lip hard between her teeth, kissing him back like she never meant to let go, running her hands all over his body.

The heat between them was all-consuming, stoking the need in his blood to a rapid boil. She was like a living flame in his arms. And that was what they were, he thought to himself as he kissed her passionately. _The fire and the ice._ So different and yet locked together in perfect, dynamic balance – the fire always seeking to melt the ice, the ice forever needing to quench the fire, each holding the other in check.

He sensed her consciousness opening, the psychic link flaring to life between them as she welcomed him into her thoughts, an intense, wordless swell of emotion surging from her mind into his. He had never experienced anything like it before...her unhidden love for him, the power of her desire...he drank it in avidly, like a thirsty man in the desert, the incredible sweetness of the feeling almost more than he could stand. Sudden urgency gripped him. Right then, he had never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted her, knowing that when he took her she would fit to him in every way, satisfy his every need. Cupping her backside, he lifted her against him in the water, feeling her legs instinctively parting to wrap around his waist.

"How do you want it?" he rasped, relentlessly continuing to stroke and touch and kiss her everywhere. "Hard and fast? Or long and slow?"

She shuddered within his arms. "Definitely hard and fast," she answered, her green eyes locked deliberately with his, heavy-lidded and hot with invitation. "_Master_."

He snarled with the force of his desire, a jolt of heat searing through him at the sound of his name on her lips, the name that she used so very rarely, knowing that she was intentionally trying to drive him over the edge. He bit and kissed his way down her neck, until he reached the silver slave collar that still encircled it. The feel of the hard, cold metal only increased his pleasure. In that moment, lost in passion, he wasn't sorry she had been unable to remove it. It looked stunning on her. And he _wanted _her to feel owned – by him and only him – in every way, body and soul.

"You're beautiful, Ana," he said fervently, his lips fierce against her skin. "So beautiful!"

Her breathing had fractured into a series of shallow little gasps and moans as she tilted her head back, giving him free access to anything he wanted. Her hips twisted against him, bringing their naked bodies even closer together in the cool water, his hardness against the soft, heated core of her. The urge to possess slammed into him. He knew he was close to losing control. He needed to be inside her. He needed to be inside her _now_.

He tightened his grip on her backside, positioning her perfectly, loving the feel of her smooth, rounded flesh in his hands, his body moving in a natural rhythm of its own, aching to join with her.

And then he hurled her as far away from him as he could. The last thing he heard was the huge splash that erupted as she struck the water hard.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Another Author's Note: OK, there it is. I'm now retreating into my concrete bunker to hide, because I really hate writing the romantic bits and they get me really nervous. So I'll see you all in a couple of weeks, when I get up the nerve to come out again! XXX<em>**


	18. Chapter 18

**_Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I am finally back with another update. Sorry, I have been "Visiting Mars" with Amy Pond, Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt for the last little while, which kept me a bit busy. Anyhoo, thank so much to the following people for reviewing the last chapter and calming my nerves: - Romana-II, noideagirl, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, xxTeam-Masterxx, Imorgen, EmmaMarie, Lady Brid, SawManiac211, MayFairy, crazychika495, Dryu, Aietradaea the Anonymous, Catelly, OhTex, Bad Dog No Biscuit, mericat, missawesome1213, iDestiny, Lost Moon, irishartemis, Geraldine (x 2), MountainLord-92, SR and HairMetalQueen-DI-Master-Tyler (who quite possibly has the longest user name ever, LOL!)_**

**_To Dryu, Lost Moon and Geraldine - thanks so much for continuing to review, I really appreciate it!_**

**_To SR - Aw thanks, I love it when people say they are addicted to my stories, it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. I hope you will keep on reading and letting me know what you think!_**

**_Lastly, I have ventured (sort of) into the world of digital art and have produced some cover art for "Visiting Mars" - if you have time, check out the link on my profile page (maybe that will encourage some more people to R & R that story? Fingers crossed, LOL - you will love Gene Hunt, I promise!)  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN<strong>

Tejana felt an explosion of light and heat inside her, every cell and nerve-ending responding hungrily to the Master's touch. No matter how strained their relationship became, it was always the same when she was with him, their love-making reaching far beyond anything she had ever felt with anyone else. Intense, electric, dark, erotic, addictive...and never quite enough, always leaving them both wanting more and more and more. It was as though, after centuries of experiencing all her other relationships in black and white, he had suddenly pulled her into a whirling kaleidoscope of passionate colour.

She felt his mind merge with hers, hot and demanding, seeking to bind her close to him in every way. Suddenly she realised that, to him, this was about much more than pleasure. The Master saw sex in the same way he saw everything else – as a tool to be used. There were times in their relationship when he had used it to manipulate, to persuade or even to punish. And sometimes...just sometimes...he used it to communicate. Negotiation, compromise, conciliation – all of these things were totally foreign to his nature. After a lifetime of being alone, of immersing himself in anger and hatred and revenge, he was completely incapable of acknowledging his emotions to himself, let alone actually discussing them with her. Instinctively, she understood that this was the only way he knew to put things right between them, by trying to physically heal the rift with the closeness and intimacy of passionate sex. She held him to her even more tightly, a surge of tenderness mingling with her urgent arousal, wanting all that he had to give. With all the difficulties currently facing them on the planet of Mnemosyne, she could only hope that what they had together would be enough to see them through.

"You're beautiful, Ana," he murmured. "So beautiful."

Hearing the unadulterated need in his voice, she stopped thinking altogether, the hard pulse of her desire for him obliterating everything else, escalating unbearably with every caress. A small gasp of anticipation escaped her lips as she felt him tense against her, exulting in the knowledge that he wasn't able to wait any longer.

His hands grasped her hips, she felt the whipcord-strong muscles flexing in his back...and then she was flying backwards through the air at a rate of knots. Before she understood what was happening, she struck the water hard, a massive splash erupting around her with the force of the impact. Completely unprepared, she sank like a stone, involuntarily inhaling a mouthful of water as it closed over her head. Her arms thrashed wildly, her mind reeling with shock.

_What the hell...? Was this his idea of a joke?_

Fury blazed inside her like a fever as she struggled towards the surface. Had she read it all wrong? Perhaps it had not been about reconciliation at all, perhaps it had been about punishment from the very beginning. Was this his twisted revenge for her defiance of his will? Proving his control over her by arousing her beyond the point of no return, only to coldly reject her at the last moment? Her entire body quivered with rage as she broke the surface, coughing and spluttering. _Oh, he was going to be sorry - so very, very sorry!_

Her long, wet hair clung to her face like clumps of seaweed, obscuring her vision. Thrusting it back, she glared angrily around her. Nothing seemed to have changed. Everything was peaceful, the waterfall still singing its gushing melody, the aurulent sunset gilding the pool with soft, fading light. But the Master was nowhere to be seen.

"Koschei?" she shouted, her fingers itching to rip him limb from limb. "Where are you? If you think this is funny..."

There was no reply. She frowned. He was still here, somewhere close by, she could feel him. But surely even he wouldn't be so childish as to indulge in a ridiculous game of hide-and-seek, no matter how angry he was with her.

"Koschei?" she called again, her voice more uncertain this time. "Koschei!"

_Ana, get out of the water! Get out of the water, NOW!_

She whirled around at the sound of his mental voice, apprehension clawing up her spine. Dark ripples were beginning to creep across the still surface of the water, black-edged in the waning light, great rings emanating from a point far across the pool, moving slowly towards her. Unsure what was happening, she began to retreat, keeping her eyes warily fixed on the increasing disturbance.

All at once, the water began to seethe and to boil. Before Tejana's horrified eyes, an enormous black tentacle catapulted out of the moiling pool, reaching for the sky, its tapered end firmly wrapped around a struggling figure.

"KOSCHEI!" she screamed, realising too late that, in hurling her away from him, he had been trying to protect her.

_Go! _he commanded again, suspended high in the air, still fighting the creature's hold. _GET OUT!_

Fear tore at her. The laser screwdriver was lost and he had no other weapons. He was naked and helpless, with absolutely nothing to defend himself. Without hesitation, she began swimming frantically for the bank, all her thoughts focused on reaching her pile of clothes.

_The knife! _she shrieked silently, determined to save him. _I'll get the knife!_

_NO! Do as I say! Get away from here!_

But before she could reply, a slimy, snake-like tentacle encircled her waist like a band of iron, dragging her backwards through the water. With a sickening sensation of leaving her stomach behind, she was also snatched into the air, where she dangled upside down, her long hair streaming in a curtain behind her.

_Ana, NO!_

She could hear his voice, but couldn't respond, the world gyring and spinning crazily around her. Far below, she could see the pool bubbling and frothing, the water churning with a multitude of tentacles like a nest of serpents. In the centre of the maelstrom, a dark hole gaped, the edges continuously flexing, contracting and expanding. The blood turned to ice in her veins as it dawned on her what it was – the creature's mouth, ravenously open in lustful anticipation of its next meal.

Refusing to give up, Tejana did her best to fight, twisting around to savagely bite and claw at the glistening arm that held her. But it was no use. The hideous maw was coming nearer and nearer, the tentacle crushing her waist and draining her of breath as it pulled her down to feed on her. Darkness began to crowd in around her, shadowing her vision.

_I'm so sorry, Koschei, I can't..._

Everything was going dim. She could no longer see the Master and she wasn't sure if her dwindling mental voice had been strong enough to reach him. With a dull sense of resignation, she stared down at the writhing mass of tentacles, expecting to be dropped into the monster's mouth at any moment.

But as she watched, the surrounding surface of the pool seemed to shimmer and coalesce. Blinking dazedly, Tejana saw dozens of translucent figures emerging from the water, their bodies diaphanous and indistinct in the fading light of the sun. With a shock, she recognised them as the same species that had saved the Master's life when the dam collapsed. They were attacking the water-monster, diving around it and thrusting at it with what appeared to be long, glittering spears.

After that, everything descended into confusion. The water-monster howled in pain and fury, uncoiling its many arms and swiping brutally at its assailants, trying to drive them away. The tentacle holding Tejana whipped violently back and forth, flinging her around in the air like a rag doll, the wind whistling in her ears. The battle below waxed fast and furious, neither side seeming able to gain the upper hand. The small translucent creatures were obviously wounding the water-monster, but they seemed unable to kill it. In its turn, the monster was wreaking havoc amongst their ranks, crushing the attackers time after time with its giant arms. Yet even as their brethren were destroyed, more of the creatures emerged from the pool to take their place, refusing to concede defeat.

Tejana could hear the Master shouting in the distance. Gritting her teeth against her swelling nausea, struggling to breathe against the pressure around her waist, she managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a patch of red on the bank.

_John, _she thought blurrily. _John's here._

Bolt after bolt of energy ripped into the water-monster, both of Hart's blaster pistols firing simultaneously, a chaos of light and sound, over and over again, the blue-white glow slicing suddenly through the deepening dusk like an explosion of fireworks. This time the monster's scream was one of mortal agony. Tejana felt the grip of the tentacle around her waist loosening, before it slipped away altogether, and she was falling, falling, falling...

Again she struck the water hard, again she sank like a stone. This time, though, she didn't have the strength to fight it. Black blood from the dying monster swirled like ink in the water around her, making it difficult to see. Tejana didn't care. She was just too tired. Inert, she lay in the water, not trying to move, not trying to swim, just wanting to sleep.

But then the Master was there, hauling her hard against him, forcing her head up, above the water, making her breathe.

_Come on, Ana, don't you dare give up! _he hissed into her mind.

She wanted to answer him, but somehow she couldn't, everything ebbing away from her like an ocean wave receding down the shore, dragging her back into the past.

* * *

><p><em>Darkness was falling quickly across Gallifrey now, the gorgeous magenta haze of twilight fading into burgeoning shadow. Tejana was rushing through the grounds of the Academy, walking as quickly as she could. She was late, so very late. Damon was going to kill her. She had been supposed to meet him in the Refectory ages ago. But she had got caught up in the Academy Archives, her head buried in a fascinating book about Earth history, and she had completely lost track of the time.<em>

Pirates! _she exulted to herself, thinking back delightedly over the stories she had just read. _Sword fights! Treasure hunts! Swashbuckling adventures on the high seas!

_It was all so exciting, all so romantic. Nothing exciting or romantic ever happened on Gallifrey. In fact, nothing at all ever happened on Gallifrey, full stop. Sometimes she thought she would curl up and die from sheer boredom – either that or burst from frustration. The worst part was, no-one else she knew seemed to feel it, even her closest friend, Damon. They all appeared to be more than content with their lot, happy to let each unremarkable day slip on by into the next. She was the only one that was different, the only one that seemed to want more from life. Tejana sighed heavily. For some reason, she had felt particularly unsettled today, even more restless than usual. She had heard it said often enough that she had bad blood, ever since she was a child. Perhaps those people were right – perhaps there was something wrong with her, something that would not allow her to fit in on Gallifrey, no matter how hard she tried._

_By now she had reached the strip of park land bordering the communal Academy buildings. During the day, this area was always bustling with students, sitting on the grass, leaning against the trees, studying, eating, chatting, flirting. But at this time of night, the place was deserted. She hesitated briefly. Normally, she would take the long way around, keeping to the lighted path, rather than walk through the night-shrouded park. But she was already so late...cutting through the trees could halve her journey time._

_With a reckless shrug, she threw caution to the wind and hurried into the park. After all, hadn't she just got through thinking that nothing ever happened on Gallifrey? So what was there to worry about?_

_Everything was very still, very silent, as she walked along, keeping her eyes fixed on the enticing lights of the Refectory building just up ahead. Except...wasn't that a rustling noise? There, in the undergrowth beside her, as if something hidden in the shadows was keeping pace with her. She quickened her steps, both of her hearts began to thud uncomfortably. There it was again. She definitely wasn't imagining it. Someone was following her. Her mouth went dry with apprehension. It could only be Tabor and his gang, getting their kicks from tormenting her as usual. She was alone and unprotected...who knew what that sadistic little bully and his creepy friends might take it into their heads to do?_

"_Tabor?" she called defiantly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of thinking she was afraid. "Tabor, is that you? I know you're there, so come out and face me, you lousy coward!"_

_For a few seconds, no-one replied. But then a dark figure sprang abruptly out on to the path in front of her, barring her way and making her jump._

"_It isn't Tabor." The voice was male, deep and velvety and filled with mocking amusement._

_She stared at him, trying to make out his features in the pale, purple moonlight. He was young, with a handsome face and close-cut dark hair. His body was tall and well-built, and he was unusually dressed in a well-fitting pair of leather trousers and an open-necked white shirt. She was sure she had never seen him before. In his casual clothes, he reminded her strongly of one of the pirates in the Earth stories she had just been reading. A golden ring even glinted in his left ear. Tejana gazed at it in fascination, never having seen anything like it before. He wasn't a Time Lord, that was for sure. No Time Lord she ever knew looked or dressed like this. And she could feel no trace of him within the psychic link – if she had closed her eyes, she wouldn't even have known he was there._

Kind of like a vampire having no reflection in a mirror_, she thought uneasily._

"_Who are you?" she demanded, curiosity warring with suspicion, unsure whether she should still be afraid. "What are you doing here?"_

_He smiled, his grin shining whitely in the dim light. "My name is Kelios," he replied. "And I came to see YOU...Tejanakaturadilena."_

_She stiffened and took a small, involuntary step backwards. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. However handsome this stranger was, however outwardly charming, there was something wrong about him, something that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. _

"_How do you know my name? What do you want?"_

"_I came to give you my sincere condolences," he said sympathetically, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he followed after her, each step as lithe as a cat._

"_C...condolences?" she stammered, an unpleasant shiver racing through her as she tried to work out what he meant. Condolences were only warranted when something terrible occurred. Damon was the only one she cared about on Gallifrey – oh gods, had something happened to Damon? Is that what he was about to tell her? _

_His smile widened. "Yes, my condolences. After all, today was supposed to be your wedding day."_

_Cold fingers seemed to walk up her spine. "My WEDDING day?" she exclaimed incredulously, too surprised now to be afraid. "And who exactly was I supposed to be marrying?"_

"_The Lord President of Gallifrey," he told her, circling her in a predatory fashion, his cold eyes sweeping her up and down – not lustfully, as a man admires a woman, but greedily, as though she was a piece of merchandise he was considering purchasing. "The man you love more than life itself."_

_Tejana watched him warily, turning on the spot to keep him in view as he paced around her. Whoever he was, going by the absolute rubbish he was babbling, he was obviously insane. She had never loved any man more than life itself and, however much she dreamed of it, she doubted she ever would. That kind of love just didn't exist, not in her world. _

"_His Supremacy, Lord President Finbar, is as old as the Mountains of Solace and Solitude," she said, carefully keeping her voice calm, inwardly wondering if she should use the psychic link to call to Damon for help. "I can assure you, I have no intention of marrying him. Besides, he already has a wife."_

_He chuckled darkly, suddenly stepping close to her and pulling her hard against him. "Oh, Tejana, I'm not talking about President Finbar."_

_She recoiled violently at his touch. Time seemed to distort in a way that she didn't understand, slicing through her senses. All at once, she was excruciatingly aware of the hollow emptiness inside her, the void left behind when she had looked into the Untempered Schism when she was eight years old. Fear rose inside her like a black tidal wave - not fear of the stranger himself, but fear of his words, fear of something unknown._

"_You've got the wrong person," she choked out, starting to struggle wildly. "You've made a mistake."_

"_There has been no mistake," her assailant said, a twisted pleasure evident in his voice as he grasped her chin painfully and looked deeply into her eyes. "I speak of what could have been and what will now no longer come to pass. I came here to see exactly what we have taken from my brother and I am satisfied...oh, I am very satisfied."_

_With that, he kissed her hard, brutally forcing her lips apart with his tongue. A roaring, rushing sound filled her head. The touch of his mouth on hers felt like an abomination – as though something beautiful had just been irretrievably lost, the cold, piercing loneliness of the Time Vortex rising up to engulf her. She fought and kicked with all her might, finally managing to tear her mouth free._

"_Get off me, you lunatic!" she screamed. "Get away from me!"_

_The stranger laughed again, his eyes glittering in triumph, his hands bruising on her upper arms. "You have no idea, Tejana, how sweet it is to taste something my brother will never have, especially on this day of all days!"_

_In the distance, she heard a familiar voice shouting her name, the most welcome sound she had ever heard. "Tejana? Tejana, where are you? Are you there?"_

"_Damon!" she yelled frantically. "Damon, over here! Help me!"_

_There was a sound of running feet through the trees. Kelios released her and backed away, already merging into the darkness._

"_Goodbye, Lady Tejana," he hissed. "Enjoy your life...your empty, empty life."_

_And then he was gone. Almost at once, she felt Damon's strong arms slipping around her waist, supporting her._

"_Tejana, there you are! Are you all right?" he demanded, looking down into her face. "You're shaking like a leaf!"_

_Dizzy with relief, she closed her eyes and leaned against him, trying to steady herself. "I'm fine, now that you're here." _

_Damon's arms tightened anxiously around her. "I felt your fear through the psychic link!" he told her. "What happened? Who was that running away?"_

"_I...I don't know..." she returned. "He just came out of the dark and accosted me. I think...I think he was a Shabogan."_

"_A Shabogan! In the grounds of the Academy?" he exclaimed, his voice filling with angry indignation. Shabogans had no right even to enter the Citadel, let alone invade the hallowed confines of the Time Lord Academy. "Come on, let's get you inside. We'll need to notify the guards to catch the lowlife scum, before he attacks anyone else."_

_Obediently, Tejana allowed him to lead her away. But deep inside, she knew that the stranger would not attack anyone else. He had come here just for her. And whatever his goal had been, it had now been achieved. She could still hear his last gloating words, echoing in her ears: _ "Enjoy your life, Lady Tejana...your empty, empty life."

_She looked back over her shoulder, watching the deepening shadows move._

"_Listen! Do you hear that?" she asked Damon sharply._

"_Hear what?" _

"_It sounded like...drums beating," she said uncertainly. "It's stopped now."_

_Damon shrugged, not really paying attention, too intent on shepherding her towards the bright lights of the Refectory. "Just your imagination."_

"_Yes," she agreed, huddling against him as they walked away, ignoring the aching sense of loss that swelled inside her. "Just my imagination."_

* * *

><p>Everything seemed to shift and, for a few, panicky moments as she emerged from the darkness, she had no idea where she was. Her eyes were closed and she was lying on her side. Something good was cooking nearby, she could smell it. She could also hear the crackle of a fire and a male voice talking, apparently telling a story of some sort.<p>

"...so there we were, the walls literally closing in on us, just minutes from death, and he says to me, 'You reckon that's big, you should see mine!'"

This was greeted by a muffled snort of laughter, also male, from somewhere above Tejana. With a start, she realised her head was resting in someone's lap. Snapping her eyes open, she saw a man in a red hussar's jacket lounging against a large boulder opposite her, still grinning at his own joke as he polished a long, slender Samurai sword, in the flickering light of a small camp-fire.

_Captain John Hart. Of course, she was not on Gallifrey – that was a long, long time ago. She was on Mnemosyne. And the hand stroking through her hair belonged to..._

She sat up abruptly. "Koschei!"

Strong hands closed on her shoulders, easing her back down again. "Take it easy, Ana. It's all right now, you're safe."

A shudder of relief ran through her at the sound of his voice. "What happened? What was that thing?"

"Fresh water kraken," Hart responded tersely, not bothering to glance up from his sword. "You're both lucky to be alive. They're not as big as their salt-water cousins, but they're just as lethal. They don't usually attack as blatantly as that, but I'm guessing the storm this morning stirred it up."

Tejana bit her lip, watching as the razor-sharp sword-edge flashed and gleamed in the firelight. Whatever she thought of Hart, he had just rescued her from certain death for the second time. And not just her, but the Master as well. Guiltily, she wondered if maybe she had misjudged him. Perhaps there was some good deep inside him, hidden under that abrasive personality. After all, Jack had once loved him, that had to count for something. And the truth was, however much she wanted to blame him, he hadn't actually been the one to kill Owen and Tosh – that had been Gray's choice. Fighting back her pride, she knew she couldn't just ignore his help this time.

"You saved us," she said huskily. "Thank you, John."

His hands stilled on the sword, his eyes hard and alert as he looked across at her. "I can't hear you," he replied, his voice carefully even. "Speak up, Princess."

A ripple of anger ran through her. He damn well knew how difficult backing down was for her and he was determined to make it as uncomfortable as possible.

"Thank you, John," she repeated doggedly, her voice ringing out loud and clear. "For saving our lives."

Reaching behind his back, he slid the sword back into its ornate scabbard. "You're very welcome, beautiful," he grinned mockingly. "Y'know, it's just so cute when you call me by my first name."

"Yeah, well, don't get too used to it!" she snapped in immediate irritation, wondering why she had even bothered to try being civil. "It'll probably never happen again!"

He gave a guffaw of laughter, using a long stick to poke desultorily at the glowing coals in the fire.

"I guess the real question is, how did you know?" the Master interposed silkily, his fingers twining tensely in Tejana's hair as he spoke.

"How did I know what?" Hart responded, the laughter dropping away from his face, his eyes turning to steel.

"That we needed help."

"Just lucky, I suppose," the ex-Time Agent said. "I was coming through the woods and I heard all the commotion."

"You're right," the Master nodded, one eyebrow raised. "That was very lucky."

"Lucky for me," Hart smirked. "Since I got to see you both naked. What exactly were you two up to, anyway?"

"None of your business!" Tejana shot back crossly, pulling away from the Master and sitting up again, a wash of scarlet colour staining her cheeks. To her immense relief, a quick glance down her body revealed that she was now very modestly wrapped in her travelling cloak, completely covered from neck to toes. "What happened to those poor creatures?"

Hart gave her a blank look. "What creatures?"

"The ones that were fighting the kraken. They looked like the same creatures I saw on the riverbank after the dam collapsed. Sort of transparent, with big moon-like eyes."

"I didn't see any creatures," Hart shrugged disinterestedly. "As far as I know, I was the only one fighting the kraken."

"But you must have seen them!" she protested. "If it hadn't been for them, that thing would have eaten us before you even got there!"

"They were there, all right," the Master confirmed, his brown eyes narrowing. "I saw them too."

Hart met his gaze without flinching. "Don't know what to tell you, Blondie. I didn't see them." Leaning forward, he prodded at some large chunks of white meat slowly roasting over the fire. "This is nearly done. At least you two saved me the trouble of catching us some supper."

The colour drained from Tejana's face, her mind momentarily distracted from their discussion, just as Hart had intended. "Please tell me that isn't..."

"'Course it is!" Hart answered cheerfully. "Waste not, want not. It's good...we've already had some while you were having your beauty sleep."

She turned to the Master, hoping against hope that Hart had been joking. Surely they couldn't seriously expect her to eat the monstrous thing that had so recently nearly eaten her?

The Master had been looking steadily at Hart, his expression tight and thoughtful. But then, feeling the weight of her gaze, he smiled at her, his brown eyes suddenly dancing at the dismayed look on her face. "Tastes like chicken," he teased, ruffling her hair and pulling her close to him.

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Tejana nestled her head back against his chest, wondering just how she had managed to get herself into this insane situation. Dealing with one of them was bad enough, but two...that was just unfair!

"Men!" she exclaimed, shaking her head incredulously.


	19. Chapter 19

**_Author's Note: Hi everyone. As always, huge thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter: Aietradaea, MayFairy, MountainLord-92, NearlyHuman, Romana-II, missawesome1213, EmmaMarie, SawManiac211, xxTeam-Masterxx, irishartemis, Imorgen, Dryu, Catelly, KlinicalyInsaneKoschei, HairMetal Queen (you rock!), OhTex, iDestiny and Geraldine._**

**_Big wave to padmay97 if you are still reading :)_**

**_OK, fluffiest chapter EVER from me, hopefully the last bit of fluff I shall need to write on this one for a while :P_**

**_I'm off now to eat a large piece of very sour lemon, to try to get over it all._**

**_Hope you enjoy! XXXXXX  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER NINETEEN<strong>

Tejana had to give Hart his due. For all his bluster and bravado, the man really could cook. By the time he was finished, the kraken flesh was roasted to perfection, cut up into delicate, even slices and attractively presented to her on a large, round leaf resembling a dinner plate. As she inhaled the delicious aroma wafting up from the meat, her head began to swim dizzily from hunger and she was very tempted to snatch some and thrust it ravenously into her mouth. But suddenly, with a sickening clarity, all she could see was the creature's hideous, pulsating maw gaping open, festooned with glistening strands of saliva as it prepared to devour her, and she instantly lost any appetite she had ever had.

"No, thanks," she refused, turning her face away from the food.

But the Master apparently had other ideas. "Eat it, Ana," he ordered. "You haven't eaten anything for two days. You can't afford to go that long without food so soon after regenerating."

"I'm fine," she answered stiffly. "I don't want it."

He went very still, his face hardening in determination. Then, with the suddenness of a striking snake, he wound his hand into her long, copper hair and ruthlessly held her head against his shoulder so she couldn't move.

"Then it looks like it's my turn to feed you," he said calmly, reaching for a piece of the kraken meat and holding it to her mouth. "Now open up."

She glared rebelliously up at him, her green eyes blazing with rage and humiliation at being treated like a two-year-old in front of Hart. For a moment, she kept her lips clamped tightly together, her defiant gaze daring him to do anything about it. But then, recognising the intent look on his face, she thought better of it. He was clearly not about to take no for an answer - and if he had to force-feed her, she knew he would, no matter what it took. If she wanted to avoid an undignified tussle, which Hart would no doubt enjoy immensely, she had no choice but to obey his command and eat.

Resentfully, she opened her mouth and allowed him to place the small piece of white meat inside.

_Serve him right if I'm sick all over him! s_he thought furiously, his tight grip on her hair still holding her head motionless as she unwillingly chewed and swallowed.

However, to her complete astonishment, the food was even more delicious than it smelled. The Master had obviously been joking when he said it tasted like chicken, because there was no comparison. The flavour literally exploded across her tongue, sweet and hot and rich, sending her starving taste-buds into a tailspin. _Oh gods, it was so heavenly...and her stomach was so empty! _Before she knew what she was doing, she was gulping down the kraken-meat like a ravenous wolf, devouring it as quickly as the Master could give it to her, until the leaf-plate was completely empty.

Hart gave a wicked chuckle, his eyes gleaming with undisguised erotic appreciation as he watched her hungrily sucking at the Master's fingers to get the last of the mouth-watering juices. A wave of horrified self-consciousness suddenly crashed through her, the amused look on the ex-Time Agent's face making her acutely aware of just how uncontrolled and feral her behaviour had been.

"What are _you_ grinning at?" she snarled, trying to regather the shreds of her dignity, which wasn't easy under the circumstances.

"Oh, nothing," he smirked, relishing her obvious discomfort. "But, just so you know, I'd cook for you any time, Princess. It's just so _nice_ to see a woman who really _enjoys_ her food."

Reining in her rising temper, she ignored the suggestive laughter in his voice and glanced back at the Master. "You win, Koschei," she said icily. "I've eaten it all, OK? You can let me go now."

He held her captive for a moment longer, just to show that he could, before brushing a satisfied kiss against her mouth and releasing her. Tejana pulled sharply away from him, defensively wrapping her travelling cloak even more tightly around herself. She was unsure whether to be grateful to him for his care or absolutely furious at his controlling behaviour. She had to admit, he had been right - she already felt much better with some food in her stomach. The dizzy, light-headed feeling was receding and she could feel some strength returning to her tired limbs.

But that wasn't the point, she thought mutinously. If she had been travelling with the Doctor, he would _never_ have forced her to eat if she didn't want to, recent regeneration or not.

Then again, a small voice in the back of her head reminded her, unlike the Master, the Doctor probably would have been much too focussed on the problem of the vanished TARDIS to notice how many meals she had missed in the first place.

"You know, I like your style, Blondie," Hart drawled, reclining idly back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "Now I see why you like to call yourself 'the Master'. Treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen, eh?"

The Time Lord merely flicked him a bored, contemptuous look and tossed the leaf-plate into the fire without bothering to reply. Tejana was his woman and he would deal with her stubbornness as he saw fit. This particular human might be a necessary evil in their lives at the moment, but the Master had no intention of justifying himself to one of the stupid apes.

Seeing he wasn't about to get any sort of entertaining rise out of the other man, Hart tried another tack. "So what about _your_ name, Princess?"

"What about it?" she snapped.

"Well, it's a Time Lord thing, isn't it? Your Dad goes by 'the Doctor'. Blondie here gets to be called 'the Master'. Just being called 'Tejana' seems a bit ordinary - shouldn't you have some sort of fancy moniker too?" He waved his hand expansively in the air. "Something appropriate, like...I don't know...how about the 'Ice Queen'? Or the 'Pocket Rocket'?"

Tejana shrugged coldly. "I don't have a title."

"Why not? Wait, don't tell me...because you're a woman, right?" he sneered, doing his best to get under her skin.

Her eyes flashed. "No, that has nothing to do with it. I left Gallifrey just before my formal graduation ceremony from the Academy, so I never officially chose a new name. It's that simple."

Hart stopped lounging and sat up, his idle taunts suddenly dissolving into a surge of genuine interest. "But you must have had one picked out though, right? If you were that close to graduating when you left?" he persisted curiously. "So what was it?"

Tejana stared at him uncertainly. No-one had ever thought to ask her that before, not even the Doctor. The choosing of a title had been a very personal thing on Gallifrey. It was not usually talked about until the official announcement on Graduation Day. She had never even discussed it with Damon. With a bitter pang, she realised she didn't even know what title her friend had ended up choosing after she had left. She supposed now she never would.

She could sense the Master's sudden alertness, his eyes resting steadily on her as he waited for her reply. She knew she didn't have to answer to either of them. She could tell Hart to go to hell if she chose. But it was all such a long time ago...what did it matter now? And as for the Master, she had already told him her birth name – next to that, the secret of the title she would have chosen paled into insignificance.

"_Y__΄n __Airet__ári,_" she said softly, gazing into the fire and trying not to think of the searing flames that had enveloped Gallifrey at the end.

Hart shook his head in a quizzical fashion, not understanding. "Sorry?"

"It's Gallifreyan," the Master spoke up, his expression unreadable in the flickering firelight. "In your terms, it means 'the Searcher' or 'the Seeker'."

"The Searcher?" Hart repeated skeptically. "Gotta say, babe, I was expecting something a bit more dramatic than that. What were you searching for?"

Tejana huddled further into her cloak and closed her eyes, a shiver streaking down her spine as she recalled the words spoken by the creepy visitor in her recently recovered memory. _Enjoy your life, Tejana. Your empty, empty life. _All at once, she felt again the hollow loneliness of her early years on Gallifrey, the keening void she could never fill, the persistent nagging feeling that there was something..._someone_...out there in the Universe she needed to find. Gallifreyan custom had dictated that the young Time Lord's choice of title was meant to reflect who they really were, which was why there was supposed to be so much soul-searching involved before the final selection. But back then, her choice of name had seemed simple, merely a recognition of the strange sense of restlessness that had been the driving force in her life ever since she was a child.

She opened her eyes again and her gaze locked with the Master's as she said, "Things that were lost long ago."

Hart looked back and forth between the two Time Lords, sensing a deep, unspoken undercurrent of shared pain he didn't comprehend. A twisted smile crossed his handsome face, his eyes suddenly haunted with his own bitter memories.

_Jack_, Tejana realised with a stab of insight. _He's thinking of Jack._

"Yeah?" he said sourly. "Well, guess what, Princess? I think we're _all_ searching for that."

* * *

><p>Kelios sat on his dark throne, looking down contemptuously on his kneeling slave.<p>

"So he is unharmed?"

The creature grovelled even further, keeping its head firmly to the ground. "Yes, Lord. Although many of my brethren were killed by the kraken."

"A small price to pay, in the cause of freedom," Kelios sneered. "Do not lose sight of your goal. Soon this planet will be wiped free of the human vermin and will belong to your people once more, as I have promised. That is what you want, is it not?"

The creature raised its head warily, its moon-like eyes glowing avidly in the darkness. "Yes, Lord."

Kelios climbed to his feet, pacing restlessly back and forth. "Nevertheless, the plan is proceeding much too slowly. It appears the cursed Doctor has wrought exceedingly well in placing his memory blocks. My brother is not regaining his memory as I had anticipated and the effects of the air of Mnemosyne begin to wane."

A slow, wicked smile spread across his handsome face, his hand moving to thoughtfully finger the golden earring in his left ear. "Perhaps the time has come to increase the stakes."

* * *

><p>Tejana was supposed to be resting. Hart had offered to take first watch again, so she and the Master had found a sheltered, semi-private spot some distance away from the heat of the fire and had lain down together to sleep. Her stomach was pleasantly full and she was very tired, but her mind was still on edge and she couldn't relax. So instead, she stared up into the slowly darkening sky, wondering how long they would be stuck on this accursed planet. Hart had been trapped here for five years. Could she and the Master make a home here together, if they had to? She couldn't picture it at all - the sheer domesticity of the idea seemed much too strange, much too unreal.<p>

She stirred uneasily. So much depended on what they would find at this Temple of the Pythia. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that it would be nothing good. She could sense there was some reason the Master was so determined to go to the Temple, something more than just trying to recover the TARDIS. It was obvious he had some sort of theory about what was going on, something he wasn't telling her.

"Can't you sleep, Ana?" he said suddenly in her ear, startling her. "What's the matter?"

Tejana turned around in his arms until she was facing him, even though she couldn't see his expression in the dark. She was glad he was awake, because she badly needed some answers and he was the only one who could give them to her.

"Just after we escaped from the kraken, I had another one of those memory visions," she told him in a low voice. "It was from back on Gallifrey, before I even stole the Time Ring and ran off to find the Doctor. I remember now it really rattled me at the time, but it was so long ago...I haven't thought of it for centuries."

"What was it about?"

"I was walking through the Academy grounds in the dark and this stranger jumped out at me. He was babbling on about giving me condolences, because my wedding day hadn't happened, and how pleased he was to have taken everything from his brother. Back then I thought he was a lunatic. But he wasn't, was he? It was _our_ wedding day he was talking about, yours and mine. Whoever he was, somehow he knew that Rassilon had changed the time-lines."

She felt the Master stiffen, his entire body tensing in angry shock. "Did this stranger tell you his name?" he demanded fiercely. "What exactly did he say? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"He said he was called Kelios. I think he was a Shabogan," she replied. "He didn't hurt me, but he forced a kiss on me. He said something about how sweet it was to taste something his brother would never have."

The Master muttered a particularly profane Gallifreyan curse word, his arms tightening almost painfully around her. Even more alarmed at the intensity of his reaction, she asked anxiously, "Koschei, what's going on? Who was he? When he was talking about destroying his brother...did he mean you? Since when did you have a brother?"

The Master gave a short, humourless laugh. "Since now, apparently. I've only just remembered him myself."

With that, he pressed his forehead to Tejana's and opened the psychic link, showing her the events that had occurred long ago in Low Town, the day he had met Kelios for the first time.

"That was him! That was the man I met on Gallifrey!" Tejana exclaimed, after seeing the end of the vision. "And Aminestra was his _mother_?"

"Last of the Pythia," the Master said tautly. "Bit much of a coincidence, don't you think? This planet, our memories, the TARDIS disappearing?"

"You think he's the one behind all this, don't you? You think he's the Dark Lord waiting for us at the Temple of the Pythia."

"It's the only thing that makes any sense."

"But it was all so long ago. Shabogans can't regenerate, even half-Time Lord ones. He should be long dead by..." She broke off in mid-sentence, suddenly realising what she was saying. "The resurrection energy! It was _him_. He's been stealing life energy from humans to prolong his own life." Horror crawled over her skin at the gruesome thought. "If he's been doing that once every year for centuries...oh gods, he must have killed _thousands_ of people."

The Master shrugged but didn't reply. Upon reflection, Tejana supposed there wasn't much he could say, given his own track record in the murder department. A few thousand dead humans probably meant less than nothing to him either way.

"If you've only just remembered he exists, he must be a big part of whatever the Doctor has blocked inside your head," she ventured, somewhat wary of reigniting his anger by bringing up her father's name.

"Yeah. Kelios, together with the Time War and the _Cruciform_," the Master agreed grimly. "All things considered, my long-lost brother has quite a few questions to answer when I catch up to him. And, believe me, I'm very much looking forward to asking them."

Tejana's fingers crept to her lips, tasting again the depravity of Kelios' kiss from long ago, the memory made even more vile now that she understood what it had all been about. Tears of rage sprang to her eyes as she thought of it.

"That bastard!" she whispered. "It was supposed to be our _wedding_ day! And he was _gloating_ about it! Stars, I wish I'd kicked him hard right where it hurts!"

The Master gave a dark, amused chuckle. "I'm not sure that would have helped us much."

"Maybe not," she responded. "But it would make me feel a whole lot better right now."

He paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Then, to her surprise, he climbed to his feet and pulled her up with him. "Come with me," he said. "I want to show you something."

"What about Hart?" she asked, looking back towards the glowing camp-fire where the ex-Time Agent sat. "Shouldn't we tell him where we're going?"

"Forget about Hart," he answered dismissively. "We're Time Lords, we don't answer to him."

Without further protest, she allowed him to lead her back through the woods, towards the river. The last trace of orange sunset was long gone from the horizon by now and the huge, pale disc of the moon had risen into the black velvet sky. Ethereal silver light shone down through the arching branches of the trees above them, tracing feathery patterns across the ground, an intricate mosaic of light and shade that shifted and danced along with the breeze. Tejana could feel the softness of damp moss beneath her bare feet, the warm, calm night air filling her senses like a delicious, clear wine.

Before long, the ground began to slope upwards. The Master continued to lead the way without hesitation, winding through the trees, but always maintaining more or less the same direction. Tejana could hear the distant sound of cascading water off to her left and guessed that they were heading for the uplands above the waterfall.

At last, they broke free of the dense tree-cover of the woodland and stepped out on to a flat plain. Tejana stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening. There was no doubt that Mnemosyne was a beautiful planet, despite all its hidden dangers. But the scene that lay before her was absolutely breath-taking. Starting at her feet and stretching all the way to the jagged, dark mountains on the horizon was a vast field of tiny gentian-blue flowers, glistening with evening dew, gently gilded by the moonlight. Not far away, gleaming like polished silver, ran the cool, clear waters of the river, meandering lazily through the flower-starred meadow before slowly picking up speed as it approached the roaring precipice of the waterfall.

Tugging firmly at her hand, the Master led her forward into the field of flowers, the sweet, intoxicating perfume of thousands of blossoms rising up and wafting around them in the still night air.

"I found it when I was lost earlier today," he told her, turning to face her. "I thought you'd like it."

Tejana gazed up at his face, hardly able to find the words to answer him. The place was beyond lovely – it was enchanting, haunting, magical. Standing here with him in the purple twilight, the shimmering moonlight transforming his blonde hair into platinum, their fingers intimately entwined together, she could almost believe they were the only two people in the Universe. The Master was the absolute paradox, full of contradiction – a man who could destroy and kill without a second thought, yet at the same time, a man who could appreciate beauty enough to find this idyllic place and offer it to her like a gift. A single tear slid down her face.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered.

Softly, he reached out and wiped the tear away, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. "So are you."

Tejana coloured, both her hearts beginning to beat faster. Desire between them was nothing new - it had been there, simmering like white-hot lava beneath the surface, long before they ever acted on it in The Matrix. But the expression she saw on his face tonight was somehow different, somehow...softer.

Reaching down, he picked a handful of the small blue flowers. Then, gently, he began twining them through her long, dark-copper hair.

"Wh...what are you doing?" she quavered, trembling under his touch.

For a moment, he didn't answer, his whiskey-coloured eyes intent as he concentrated on his task. But then he asked, "Do you know what these are?"

"Myosotis," she answered, her voice catching huskily in her throat. "They grow everywhere, right throughout the Universe. On Earth, they call them 'Forget-me-nots'."

"And do you know what they were used for on Gallifrey?"

Fresh tears prickled her eyes. She knew exactly what they were used for on Gallifrey, but she was surprised that he did.

"Marriage flowers," she murmured haltingly.

He nodded. "Brides traditionally wore them in their hair as a symbol of enduring love and fidelity. It's what you would have worn, if we had been married all those years ago." His mouth twisted wryly. "The House of Oakdown was always pretty big on tradition."

The tiny flowers were surprisingly heavy in her hair, the bewitching scent of the blossoms swirling around them. The Master bent his head and kissed her, his mouth hard and sensual against hers.

"He can gloat all he likes. Whatever his plan was, in the long run, it didn't work," he muttered, a note of savage satisfaction in his voice as he referred to his mysterious half-brother. "Because _here we are_. Together. And this is the way it's always going to be."

He slid his hands purposefully down her back, his fingertips tracing the contours of her spine in slow, deliberate circles as his mouth took possession of hers again. Tejana put her arms around his neck, first one, then the other, every part of her body responding to him. She was almost afraid to give in to the blazing rush of heat. After all, this was Mnemosyne, something was bound to go wrong – what would happen to break them apart this time? John Hart? Another giant squid? A stampeding herd of bloody rhinoceros?

But nothing came to interrupt them as he lowered her to the glittering carpet of flowers, his kisses escalating until they were wild and frantic. There was only the balmy night air stroking across her naked skin and the hard strength of his body covering her own. She was conscious of him whispering her true name in her ear like a promise, could hear her own voice answering with his, and then there was nothing but pure pleasure and the mindlessness of raw, aching desire as they more than made up for lost time.

Afterwards, she lay contentedly in his arms, their laboured breathing the only sound disturbing the still night. She could feel her own double heartbeat. And his, pounding steadily under her ear, her head cradled on his chest, her bright hair spread out around her, still threaded with the flowers he had woven through it.

_Forget-me-nots, _she thought to herself in disbelief. _Marriage flowers._ _Why did he do that?_

With Gallifrey gone, she knew that she and the Master could never be truly joined in marriage by the rites of their people, even if the Doctor would ever grant his permission, which she doubted. But by giving her this, was he trying to do the next best thing? Was that what it meant? Or was it all just about his overriding obsession to reclaim everything Rassilon had taken from him – his typical Master-like way of saying "Up yours, I still win!" to the Universe?

As many times as she turned it over in her mind, she just didn't know. Surreptitiously, she uncurled her hand and looked down at the crumpled flower that lay inside, its golden centre glowing like a tiny sun.

"I suppose it's just as well I never had the chance to take up the title of the Searcher," she murmured. "It wouldn't make sense now anyway."

"Why's that?" the Master asked sleepily.

"Because I've found what I was looking for," she answered, lacing her fingers through his. "And I don't ever need to go searching again."

There was a deep pause and she could feel his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathed. With a rueful smile, she concluded that he had fallen asleep without even hearing her impulsive words. Perhaps it was just as well.

But then he said quietly, "Guess you need a new title then." His fingers tightened around hers, his thumb gently stroking the palm of her hand. "_Amin tel'Seldarine...amin b'ara._"

Tejana caught her breath at the beautiful Gallifreyan words, wondering if he was awake enough to know what he was saying.

_My haven...my home._

A sudden glow of joy took her by surprise, lighting her hearts and warming her like a flame from the inside out. After so long wandering, when he was with her, he felt like he had finally come home. Somehow, coming from him, those few simple words meant a thousand times more to her than any flowery endearments or protestations of love ever could. And as far as titles went, she could imagine no better.

Surrounded by the misty scent of the myosotis flowers, she cuddled into his side and closed her eyes, knowing that, for the rest of her life, the fragrance of Forget-me-nots would always be synonymous for her with perfect, unsullied happiness.

Perhaps Mnemosyne was not such a bad place after all, she reflected as she drifted off to sleep. Not when everything she would ever need was already here.

* * *

><p><em>She knew she was dreaming as soon as she opened her eyes. She was standing in a vast, vaulted hall she had never seen before. The place seemed endless, stretching on into infinity. She could see no ceiling above her and no floor below her, but somehow she knew they were there, just very, very far away. Everything was white, the sheer, glowing absence of colour almost painful to her eyes. As her vision adjusted, she realised with astonishment that she was surrounded by millions and millions of golden scrolls, all of them improbably suspended in mid-air. Everywhere she looked, she saw more of them – above, below, to the left and the right, thousand upon thousand.<em>

_Bewildered, but not afraid, she reached out to touch the nearest parchment, only to find that her hand went right through it._

"_They are stories," a musical voice said from behind her._

_She whirled around. A woman was standing there, tranquilly watching her. Tejana could not have described her, no matter how hard she tried. She was neither young nor old, large nor small, beautiful or ugly, clothed or naked...and yet, at the same time, she was all of those things. There were no limits to her, no finalities, no constraints. She just WAS...an inexplicable being of pure existence._

_Tejana was a Time Lady, the last daughter of a proud and arrogant race. She was unused to feeling in any way inferior to any other being. But something about the simple majesty of this woman left her almost speechless with awe._

"_I...I'm sorry?" she stammered._

"_Every creature in the Universe has its own story, each one as important as the next," the woman replied, waving her hand gracefully to encompass the entire hall of scrolls. "I know them all. They are all here, safely in my keeping."_

"_Who are you?"_

"_I am known by many names. On Mnemosyne, I am called the Ruach, the Breath of Creation. But I believe you know me as the Spirit of the Universe."_

_Tejana shook her head incredulously. "That's not possible. I knew I shouldn't have eaten that kraken-meat. I'm just dreaming this. You aren't real."_

"_What is a dream and what is reality?" the Ruach smiled serenely. "It matters not. Each story follows its path and yours has brought you here, Tejanakaturadilena."_

"_My story?"_

_The Ruach extended a slender hand and Tejana saw that she was holding a single golden scroll. With a smooth flick of her wrist, she loosened the clasp and unrolled it. To the Time Lady's surprise, she realised it was not a parchment at all, but a silken tapestry, as fine and as light as gossamer. It floated in the air before her, diaphanous and achingly beautiful, shimmering with exquisite light and colour._

"_I don't understand," she said in confusion, avidly trying to take it all in, but failing miserably. "Is that meant to be a picture of my life? There are so many colours, so many patterns..."_

"_Each story has many threads." As she spoke, the Ruach reached out and stroked the tapestry, and wherever her hand passed, Tejana's vision seemed to sharpen and she could see clearly. Entranced, she realised she was looking at the very beginning of her story, where the Doctor's life-thread intersected with Melana's, briefly intertwining to embroider a new, iridescent filament into the tapestry, the thread representing Tejana herself. Following the Ruach's guiding hand, she watched as Melana's thread disappeared from the picture and the Doctor's diverged far away, leaving her own to shine on alone. Then another thread appeared, woven closely alongside her own, strong and supportive. Tears came to Tejana's eyes as she recognised it. "Damon," she whispered, taking a step closer as she gazed at the picture of her life with absorbed fascination._

_But suddenly, without warning, the Ruach pulled her hand away from the tapestry with a gasp, as though she had been burned. Stunned, Tejana saw a huge, ugly, ragged gash in the evanescent fabric, spoiling and desecrating it, as though someone had carelessly torn through it with a knife._

"_What's that?" she demanded frantically. "What happened there?"_

"_Your wedding to Koschei of the House of Oakdown was a fixed point in time," the Ruach said sadly. "When that was changed...such terrible damage is not easy to repair, even for me."_

_And then Tejana saw it, the black thread that wove throughout her story from the very beginning, keeping pace with her own. Time and time again, the two threads converged, touched, over-lapped, before splitting apart once more and going their separate ways, each occurrence leaving yet another devastating tear in the tapestry of her life. Gallifrey, Traken, Logopolis, Castrovalva, Sarn, the beginning of the Time War, the Valiant – over and over again they were brought back together, over and over again they parted, like some sort of tragic, inevitable dance. _

_Until The Matrix._

_Trembling, Tejana raised her hand and touched the place where her thread and his had finally intertwined, joining together almost indistinguishably as one. She swallowed hard, wishing she could wake up, not wanting to see any more. It was one thing to know what a mess her life had been, it was another to see it all laid out for her like this._

_She traced the joined threads compulsively with her fingertip - until she reached their arrival on Mnemosyne, where she came to a shuddering stop, drawing in her breath almost painfully with shock. A new thread suddenly shone in the tapestry, glittering under her hand, so tiny, so fragile, a story just beginning. A little piece of her. A little piece of him._

_With a startled exclamation, she turned to face the Ruach, who smiled and nodded. But before the Spirit could speak, a cold wind howled through the hall. To Tejana's horror, the tapestry of her life began to tear all over again, right in front of her eyes, a terrible, gaping rent that slashed savagely through it from top to bottom._

"_The Time of Chaos approaches!" the Ruach cried, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. "All hangs in the balance."_

_The gale was growing stronger and stronger, picking Tejana up bodily and carrying her away._

"_Wait!" she screamed, struggling futilely against the tempest. "What's happening? I need to know what to do!"_

_But she was already falling helplessly through the darkness. All she could hear was the faint echo of the voice of the Spirit of the Universe, floating in the distance._

"_Whatever can be imagined can be realised."_

* * *

><p>Tejana woke with a jerk, her body covered in a cold sweat. The dream was already fading, the memory of it slipping away, leaving only a vague tingling of foreboding.<p>

Only one thing remained, etched clearly and indelibly on her mind. Her hand went protectively to her stomach, sensing the truth of it, beyond any doubt.

She was pregnant with the Master's child.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter - EmmaMarie, Aietradaea, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Imorgen, missawesome1213, Dryu, Catelly, SawManiac211, irishartemis, mericat, OhTex, MayFairy, Lost Moon, Bernice-Summerfield and NaughtyJordyBangBang._**

**_Special thanks to everyone who sent me birthday wishes, particularly Aietradaea, who specially wrote me a new Bloopersverse chapter (yay!) and Dryu, who did me a lovely piccie of Tejana regenerating (I'll put a link to it on my profile shortly!)_**

**_To NaughtyJordyBangBang - Thanks so much for your wonderful, encouraging review, it arrived at the perfect moment to inspire me and is one of the main reasons this chapter got finished and is being posted today :)_**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY<strong>

She was going to be a mother.**  
><strong>

At the stunning realisation, Tejana's entire centre of gravity seemed to shift, tilting her into a churning whirlpool of confused emotion. The shock was so great, she almost forgot how to breathe, her chest tightening like a vice.

A child. _His_ child, growing inside her.

A moment of blind panic almost overwhelmed her. She had wanted this, even longed for it. But it was one thing to imagine it happening in the abstract. It was a whole other thing to actually face the reality.

Trembling, she opened the psychic link to its maximum, carefully exploring with her mind. Sure enough, the delicate new spark of life glowed like the tiniest of fireflies in the depths of her consciousness, so infinitesimal, so easily missed. It was only a few days old, a miracle of creation, an untold story scarcely begun.

She thought back to her passionate lovemaking with the Master in the TARDIS just after her regeneration, when her artron energy level, and therefore her fertility, had been at its highest peak. Suddenly, everything that had happened since became much clearer – the hunger she had been feeling, the unusual food cravings, the tiredness, the nausea. She had written it all off as part of the ongoing aftermath of her regeneration. But Time Lord physiology was so very complex, so very sensitive, particularly at such an early stage of a new incarnation...whereas it would have taken a human several weeks to manifest the symptoms of pregnancy, Tejana's body had begun to react almost immediately to the advent of the baby.

Despite her misgivings, a fierce thrill of joy rushed through her hearts at the exquisite, enchanting sensation of the tiny life just beginning inside her. Together, overcoming all the odds stacked against them, she and the Master had brought this child into being. It was a boy, she could tell that much already. Their_ son_. Everything coming full circle, the universe repairing itself, restoring the balance, just as it should have been so long ago, if Rassilon had not corrupted the causal nexus.

But then, as suddenly as it had come, her joy slid away into despair as the bitter understanding struck her. Things could never be fully repaired. This child would never run across the fields of red grass on the Oakdown Estates, would never grow up to be Lord President of Gallifrey, would never save his people from the Dalek menace. That future was lost for all time, his path now lying unwritten and unknown before him. And Tejana and the Master...both of them so broken, so damaged, so different from what they should have been...were either of them fit to be the parents of a child? What would become of him?

Dawn was breaking overhead now, the night sky gradually lightening into a beautiful blush-pink. Tejana felt the Master stir beside her and her hand moved to stroke his chest, tears blurring her eyes as she remembered his uncharacteristic tenderness from the night before. He would share none of her doubts – he had made no secret of his intense desire for a child. She knew exactly what his reaction would be when she told him. _Excitement. Joy. Triumph. Possessiveness. _A pure-blood Time Lord son! An heir for the House of Oakdown! Anxiety twisted within her. As much as she delighted in the thought of his happiness, it frightened her as well. Her mind skittered unwillingly back to the recent incident with the kraken-meat, when he had forced her to eat whether she wanted to or not. He had been controlling enough before, protecting her as he chose, without any regard for her preferences. What would he be like once he discovered she was carrying his son? Particularly since they were on a strange planet with no TARDIS and were about to follow a man they didn't trust to confront an unknown danger at the mysterious Temple of the Pythia. Things really couldn't get much more complicated.

His eyes flicked open, a warm hazel in the dawn-light, and he smiled at her.

Tejana swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She had to tell him. Didn't she? He had a right to know, it was his son too. And what better time and place could she find, lying here with him in this beautiful meadow, her hair entwined with his marriage-flowers?

She opened her mouth to speak. "Koschei..."

"Mmmmm?"

"You and I...we..." She paused, her courage seeping away under his steady gaze, before finishing lamely, "We...we should get back. It's dawn. Hart will be looking for us."

"Let him," the Master responded, his hands moving to caress her again, with an intimacy that made her gasp.

Realising he had only one thing on his mind, she tried again, one last time. "Wait, Koschei, I need to tell you..."

"Later," he answered, rolling her beneath him and effectively silencing her with his mouth.

_Yes, OK, later, _she thought to herself, giving in to his demanding embrace without further protest, unwilling to admit that she was glad of the reprieve. _I'll tell him later. There isn't any hurry - there's plenty of time._

Completely immersed in each other, neither of the Time Lords noticed a distinct shimmering in the air nearby, left behind as a hovering, translucent creature slipped away, heading back for the river.

* * *

><p>Walking through the woods back to the camp-site some time later, Tejana found her tension increasing with every step, bracing herself for a nasty confrontation. Hart clearly considered the two Time Lords his only ticket of escape from Mnemosyne and she fully expected him to be agitated and angry at their apparent disappearance. With his usual arrogant contempt for humans, the Master seemed serenely unbothered at the prospect. But Tejana knew that Captain John Hart was hardly your average human. She had seen the ex-Time Agent in many different moods, but she couldn't remember ever actually seeing him truly enraged and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She had a bad feeling that, like the Master himself, once backed into a corner, Hart would be capable of pretty much anything.<p>

Much to her surprise, however, she had apparently been worried about nothing. When they arrived back in the small woodland clearing, Hart greeted them as calmly as if they had never been away. He was seated on a rock, his arms folded, waiting for them. The camp-fire had been extinguished and their gear neatly stowed away on the horses' backs.

"Ready to leave?" he asked, climbing to his feet.

Tejana said nothing, alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of her mind, her lingering distrust of the man rearing its ugly head yet again. Something about this felt wrong. Why wasn't Hart more concerned? No anger, no recrimination, no sarcastic remarks. She watched him narrowly as he swung astride his horse, trying to better gauge his mood. Why did she get such a strong impression that he had known all along _exactly_ where they were? Or was she reading too much into it? Perhaps it was merely that he had taken it for granted that they would return, since he knew they needed him to lead them safely to the Temple of the Pythia? Nevertheless, unease dug into both her hearts.

"We're ready," the Master answered, mounting the other horse and pulling Tejana up to sit in front of him.

Hart grinned wolfishly over his shoulder at them. "Let's go then. Temple of the Pythia, here we come."

The horses started off, with Hart in the lead. The Master's arms closed around Tejana, one hand holding the reins, the other curved around her middle, holding her securely against him. She felt the warmth of his palm spread across her stomach and she shivered, unable to shake the guilty realisation that he was unconsciously cradling his child. All her lurking suspicions of John Hart vanished into a sweeping surge of remorse, as her own more pressing problems reclaimed her attention. She would tell the Master soon, she really would. After all, it wasn't as if she was deliberately keeping it from him. She was just waiting to find the right moment.

Unfortunately, as they rode along, the passing landscape nothing but a blurred background to her troubled thoughts, it became increasingly obvious that finding the right moment during their trek to the Temple wasn't going to be easy. Deep inside, she knew she should have told him when she had the perfect opportunity, back in the forget-me-not meadow. But she also knew that, had she done so, there was every chance he would have refused to allow her to travel any further with them, forcing her to stay behind, both for her own protection and for that of the child. Tejana found herself gritting her teeth stubbornly at the very thought. He could just forget that. The words of Mother Hulde's prophecy rang in her ears: "_And in the hands of the woman will rest the fate of the man. And in the hands of the man rests the power to save or damn the entire world._" No matter how sick of prophecies she happened to be, she hadn't the slightest intention of letting him go anywhere on this damnable planet without her to watch his back - in fact, now more so than ever. Having known only too well the devastating heartache of growing up without a father, she would do anything to save her own child from going through the same pain.

Despite his physical closeness, she could tell his mind was far away from her, his inexplicable softness from the night before now long gone, receding into a grim aura of purpose as he readied himself for what he expected to be the upcoming confrontation with his half-brother. Once again, Tejana silently cursed herself for getting them both into this mess. If she never saw another egg again, it would be too soon.

After several hours of uneventful travel through the quiet woodlands, they emerged without warning on to a wide, well-trodden path and she was surprised to sense a large number of people gathered together just ahead of them. An odd mixture of smells drifted back to them on the light breeze:- roasting chestnuts, sawdust, grease-paint, burnt sugar, together with the usual pervasive Mnemosyne aroma of manure and unwashed human.

Hart drew his horse to a halt and dismounted, his head bent as he studied the multitude of fresh tracks on the ground.

"What is it?" the Master asked, as they caught up to him. "Another village?"

"No," Hart shook his head. "There's no village in this immediate area, that's why I came this way. I'm guessing this is some sort of travelling show, like a carnival."

The Master rolled his eyes in impatience. "Great! A freak show. Just what this planet needed to make it perfect."

"Can't we go around it?" Tejana queried uneasily.

Hart shrugged. "We could. But why bother? If we lead the horses and keep our heads down, we can be through it in a few minutes - and this is the most direct route to the Temple."

"Fine, let's just get on with it!" the Master snapped, sliding from the horse's back to the ground, before reaching up to swing Tejana down as well.

Hart shot her a wry glance. "Cover your hair, Princess," he instructed. "Otherwise they'll think you're one of the exhibits."

Reminded that red hair was extremely uncommon on Mnemosyne, Tejana pulled the hood of her travelling cloak up to conceal her tangled copper mane.

"Better," Hart approved. "Now, both of you follow me and try not to look too conspicuous."

With that, he began to walk along the track, leading his horse by the reins.

The Master gave a small growl of irritation. "Oh, like _he_ doesn't look conspicuous in that outfit!"

Looking at the way Hart's scarlet Hussar's jacket stood out against the dull greens and golds of the woodland foliage around them, Tejana had to smother a giggle.

"You have to admit, a circus is probably the only place he _would_ fit in!" she smiled, as she and the Master followed in the ex-Time Agent's footsteps.

"I heard that!" Hart's voice drifted sarcastically back to them.

* * *

><p>It was a long time since Tejana had been to a human carnival and the sheer diversity of things to see had her instantly entranced. The atmosphere was almost holiday-like, laden with excitement and merriment. The skirling sound of pipe-music lilted through the air, adding to the festive feel, making her feet tap as if she wanted to dance. There were people everywhere, happily milling around the various exhibits, most of them dressed in rough, homespun peasant clothing. Secure in the anonymity of the crowd, Tejana looked around eagerly under her concealing hood, drinking in the sights and sounds.<p>

There were jugglers, expertly tossing countless multi-coloured balls in the air; a "Bearded Lady" with a long black beard and flourishing moustaches; a three-headed fish swimming in a large tank; several clowns towering over the mob on long wooden stilts; a "Strong Man" lifting incredible weights above his head; and a troupe of midget acrobats, climbing on each other's backs to form a pyramid, just to name a few of the attractions. There were also plenty of stalls selling different sorts of food, some of it appearing palatable, some of it not; numerous sideshows and gambling games; and even a crude dunking machine where a woman dressed in scanty clothing was dropped repeatedly into a pool of water, much to the uproarious delight of the onlookers.

_Oh, the Doctor would just love this! _ Tejana thought, watching in fascination as a fire-eater threw back his head and thrust a flaming torch down his throat with no apparent ill-effects.

The Master, on the other hand, led their horse through the crowd without looking to the left or to the right, his back stiff with barely-contained revulsion. Tejana sighed inwardly. Unlike the Doctor, he had never been able to tolerate or appreciate any sort of imperfection or oddity. She could still hear the taunts he had flung at Jack on board _The Valiant_, calling him "Freak" over and over again, sneering at him for being different, for being _wrong_. A carnival such as this, celebrating such a wide spectrum of human diversity, was never going to be something he could enjoy.

Keeping Hart in sight was no easy task either, given the density of the shifting crowd and Tejana's limited height. Despite their earlier jokes, she ended up being quite grateful for the distinctive red colour of his jacket, glimmering through the tangle of people that separated them.

As they passed the fortune-teller's tent, a hand with long, slender fingers reached out and seized the Master's arm, halting their progress.

"How about you come into my tent, handsome, and I'll tell you all there is to know about your future?" a silky voice purred.

Glancing up, Tejana saw a gorgeous woman with long dark hair and glittering black eyes, dressed in revealing red robes, her darting tongue moistening her red lips as her gaze fixed provocatively on the Master's face.

Instant rage flared in the Time Lady's veins at the blatantly sexual invitation. "How about you let him go, before I break your arm in three places?" she suggested coldly.

The woman's basilisk eyes swung around to focus on her, as if seeing her for the first time. Releasing the Master's arm, she took a step backwards and smiled. "Forgive me," she said, with a small bow of her lovely head. "I meant no offence."

"Yeah, I bet," Tejana fumed, pulling the Master away, back into the swirling mob of people. "Bitch."

The Master gave her a mocking grin. "I love it when you get all jealous," he teased, enjoying her flash of temper.

"I'm _not_ jealous!" she lied crossly, swinging her elbows to push her way through the crowd with quite unnecessary force.

Behind them, the woman watched them go, her smile widening until it revealed her incisors, thin and curved and razor-sharp, just like a snake, before she turned and disappeared back inside her tent.

* * *

><p>"Where's Hart?" Tejana asked a short time later, standing on tip-toes and trying to see through the forest of bodies. They were near the end of the carnival now, caught up in bunch of spectators watching a puppet show, and she had totally lost sight of the scarlet Hussar's jacket.<p>

"I don't know, I can't see him either," the Master said with a frown. "Maybe we'll find him if we get clear of this lot."

Tejana nodded and turned to follow him. The charm of the fair was rapidly wearing thin for her. She was sick of being trapped in the claustrophobic crowd and, since the incident with the fortune-teller, she wanted nothing more than to leave. But suddenly, the two puppets performing on their tiny stage up in their booth caught her eye and she froze in disbelief. The two characters had been entertaining their audience by bickering violently back and forth, kissing and making up and then dancing together, antics very similar in style to the traditional Punch and Judy shows Tejana had seen at the seaside on Earth. But as she looked more closely, she realised to her horror that these puppets looked nothing like the comical Punch and Judy she was familiar with. Instead, the male character was dressed all in black, with an untidy thatch of ash-blonde hair. The female character wore a short, cream-coloured tunic and a tumbling mane of long red hair fell past her waist. A silver slave collar gleamed around the puppet's neck. With a sickening chill, Tejana realised she was looking at perfect facsimiles of herself and the Master.

As she watched, the two creepy marionettes joined hands, their expressions both blank and yet malicious at the same time. Facing the audience, they began to sing in high-pitched, child-like voices that sent an icy shiver clawing up her spine.

"Tick tock, goes the clock,

Our memories, they taunt us,

Tick tock, goes the clock,

The past comes back to haunt us."

.

"Tick tock, goes the clock,

Our happiness is fleeting.

Tick tock, goes the clock,

Soon sadness we'll be greeting."

.

"Tick tock, goes the clock,

Too late now to run.

Tick tock, goes the clock,

The Time of Chaos comes."

.

"Tick tock, goes the clock,

Now what would we rather?

Tick tock, goes the clock,

A child without a father."

.

"Tick tock, goes the clock,

Time runs ever faster.

Tick tock, goes the clock,

Especially for the Master..."

.

Tejana stared wildly at the impassive wooden faces of the puppets, their darkly-painted eyes empty of any vestige of pity or mercy as their eerie song trailed into silence. Then, with a long drawn-out scream, the male puppet was torn violently away from the female and wrenched from the stage by the invisible puppeteer. The female was left alone, her head bowed, her hands covering her face as if in inutterable grief. Tejana gasped in fear at the sight and began to stumble backwards. The leering crowd seemed to press in around her, crushing the breath from her lungs, the world beginning to spin in crazy circles.

"Koschei," she cried, her voice strangling in her throat as she turned to find him. "Koschei!"

He was kneeling on the ground behind her, his expression one of impotent fury, his arms twisted roughly behind his back by the two green-clad Lordsmen that stood on each side of him. A sword was being held threateningly to his throat.

A heavy hand fell on Tejana's shoulder and the hood of her cloak was twitched back, allowing her mass of copper hair to tumble free, gleaming in the sunlight. An insinuating voice spoke in her ear, "Hello, little pleasure slave. We meet again."

With an effort, she managed to tilt her head and realised she was looking into the gloating face of Silas.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Author's Note: Thankyou everyone who reviewed the last chapter - EmmaMarie, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx (x 2), Catelly, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Theta'sWorstNightmare, NearlyHuman, Bernice-Summerfield, Dryu, MountainLord-92, Lady Brid, OhTex, Geraldine (x 2), Imorgen, irishartemis, SawManiac211, Aietradaea, kie1993 and Lost Moon._**

**_To dryu - Thanks again for popping over to review. So glad you liked the carnival scenes, I really enjoyed visualising and writing them! As for Hart, read on and find out..._**

**_To Lady Brid - Hello there! So glad to have you back on board! Thank you very much for your comprehensive review, I loved reading it :)_**

**_Big wave to my new reviewer, kie1993, lovely to hear from you!  
><em>**

**_I'm very happy_ _everyone seemed to like the creepy rhyme in the last chapter - as you've all probably guessed, it's based on the one in Season Six foretelling the Doctor's death. As I said to a few people, ticking clocks are actually supposed to be the Master's thing (as he commented in Last of the Time Lords: "I never could resist a ticking clock!") so I couldn't resist writing a version of the song for him._**

** _I've been a bit more prompt about updating this time (largely because of all the lovely reviews), so hopefully you will all enjoy this chapter..._  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY ONE<strong>

"You didn't seriously think you could escape from me, did you, my pretty little murderer?" Silas taunted, his fingers biting deeply into the soft skin of Tejana's upper arm. "I'm the best hunter and tracker on Mnemosyne. Your traitorous Slave-taker Captain is good, but not as good as he thinks!"

With one quick, theatrical movement, he stripped away Tejana's cloak, revealing her brief, silken slave garment to the curious crowd that was rapidly gathering around them.

"Now, my sweet, time to grovel on your knees at my feet, where you belong."

His grip tightened even further, enjoying the tension of her resistance, twisting her slender arm with brute strength until she had no choice but to fall to her knees before him on the filthy, manure-strewn ground. "Assume the position of the pleasure slave!" he commanded, playing like a showman to the crowd. "Display yourself to me! Back straight! Hands on your thighs! Knees wide!"

Then, as she didn't immediately obey, he kicked her knees viciously apart and then slapped her hard across the face. "I _said_, knees wide, slave!"

Intense humiliation burnt through Tejana's body, scorching her like a flame. She could feel the salacious eyes of the mob devouring her as they thoroughly enjoyed the unexpected performance. Behind her, she heard the Master's snarl of futile rage. But there was nothing either of them could do.

"Very nice," Silas approved, looking her up and down. "Women are born to serve men, that is the natural order of things. You've led me a merry dance, my lady. But now, you will submit to me as your new Master. I want to hear you say it out loud, for all these people to hear."

"_No!_" she ground out, her ingrained Gallifreyan pride revolting at the very idea. She was a Time Lady. She would rather die than say those words to a human, especially in front of her life-mate.

"Do it!" Silas ordered implacably. "Or I will slice your man's head off before your very eyes."

The Lordsmen holding the Master pulled his head back even further, baring his neck to the sword blade that rested against it. Agonised, Tejana's green eyes met his furious brown ones. Risking her own life through her refusal was one thing – but risking his was unacceptable.

_I'm sorry, Koschei. I have to do this. Forgive me._

She pulled her gaze away from his, not wanting to see the look on his face as she spoke the demeaning words. Haughtily, she raised her chin and, with all the ancient arrogance of her people, shot Silas a clear look of contempt.

"I submit to you," she conceded, both hearts aching with shame as she heard the other Time Lord growl like a wounded animal. "...Master."

Silas laughed. "Well said, slave!" he mocked. "Now all I need to do is to teach you to mean it, yes? I think I'll enjoy that."

"I'm going to kill you," the Master promised viciously, his voice rasping with hatred. "And, believe me, when I do, it will make what I did to your friend Ivrium look merciful."

"You're hardly in the best position to make threats, stranger," Silas jeered, walking over to stand confidently in front of the captured Time Lord, his legs apart and his hands on his hips. "You don't seem to understand the situation – she's _my _slave now. And tonight I intend to take her to my bed and use her in every possible way a man can use a woman. Not only that, but I'm going to make you _watch_. And then, tomorrow, it will be _her _turn to watch, as I have you hung, drawn and quartered for all to see, a just punishment for the murderer of a Keep Lord."

Still kneeling where the Lordsman had left her, Tejana shuddered at his words, her mind flickering with a kaleidoscope of nightmare images of the Master being slaughtered in front of her, just as Turlough had been.

_Tick tock, goes the clock..._

Somehow, she had to stop this. Given half a chance, she would quite happily have plunged her knife into Silas's back, but with the sword blade hovering so close to the Master's throat, she didn't dare to move. Desperately, she scanned the crowd, searching for any possible help, any potential allies. But these peasants were quite content to watch the drama unfold, just like any other entertaining spectacle at the fair. Unlike Brandon and Corin back at the village, none of them showed the slightest inclination to risk challenging the Lordsmen on behalf of two strangers.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Tejana saw a flash of red approaching through the throng. _Hart! Surely it had to be Hart, coming back for them? _A surge of desperate excitement rushed through her as she strained to make out the person's face through the confused tangle of the crowd. _Come on, John, where are you? _she begged silently. _Just for once, let me trust in you!_

But when the elusive figure finally reached the front of the gathering, not far from where Tejana knelt, the Time Lady nearly choked with disappointment. It was not Hart at all. It was the exotic fortune-teller she and the Master had encountered earlier, her scarlet dress glowing like a ruby against the coiling coal-black of her hair. The gypsy-woman seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings, gracefully gliding between the closely-packed people as if they weren't even there. As she swept past, Tejana realised her eyes were once again fastened on the Master to the exclusion of all else, glittering with purpose.

Unaware of the approaching woman, Silas was still relishing his triumph, making the most of his opportunity to taunt his prisoner. "I must admit," he grinned, inclining his head mockingly towards the Master. "I do owe you somewhat of a debt of gratitude, stranger. Despite his well-known sexual excesses, Lord Ivrium had no son. Even now, the nobles are quarrelling over the succession. Such a climate of political unrest can only be an advantage to an astute and ambitious man."

"Such as yourself, I suppose?" the Master sneered.

"Of course," Silas shrugged. "The majority of the Lordsmen are loyal to me. We are tired of being ruled by weak, vainglorious fools like Ivrium. I think a new regime is in order. Lord Silas...it has quite a ring to it, don't you think? And, just think, after you're dead, your woman will have the honour of being the first slave to grace my imperial harem."

One of the other Lordsmen sniggered loudly, looking over his leader's shoulder. "Don't speak too soon, sir. Looks like you might have another volunteer!"

Annoyed at being interrupted while he was enjoying himself, Silas swung around and saw the beautiful gypsy-woman standing just behind him, staring past him towards the Master.

"What is your business here, woman?" Silas snapped, unnerved by the fact that her gaze seemed to see right through him, as if he wasn't even there.

"My bussssinessss?" she echoed, her voice strangely sibilant. Oddly, her head began to weave back and forth as she spoke, a sinuous movement reminiscent of an angry cobra about to strike. "My bussssinessss issss none of your conccccern, human."

Suddenly, the lower half of her body seemed to undulate and lengthen, extending itself in long rippling waves, the scarlet dress molding itself to her burgeoning form, like a shimmering skin. Watching from behind, Tejana realised with horror that, below the waist, the woman now resembled nothing more than a gigantic snake, her long, scaly tail coiled in shining, vermilion loops around her. Above the waist, the monster retained the form of a beautiful woman, her abundant night-dark hair flowing wildly over her white shoulders. Sharp, curved fangs protruded over her blood-red lips and her obsidian eyes gleamed evilly as she reared high in the air above the astonished Silas.

"Ruach have mercy on us!" one of the Lordsmen screamed, releasing the Master and backing away in fear. "She's not a woman! She's a lamia!"

Frantically, Silas tried to draw his sword to defend himself, but he was far too slow. The lamia attacked with dizzying speed, her fanged mouth savagely tearing his head from his shoulders in the blink of an eye and tossing it aside. For one surreal moment, the Lordsman's headless corpse stood upright, as if in surprise that it was dead, before collapsing slowly to the ground, where it lay twitching feebly, blood fountaining grotesquely from the severed neck.

The lamia laughed at the gory sight and turned her attention back to the Master, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Kosssschei!" she hissed, caressing every syllable of the Master's name with her forked tongue. "Ssssso easssssy to tell you your future, handssssome. You haven't got one!"

The last remaining Lordsman seemed frozen to the spot in fear, his hand convulsively tightening in the Master's hair like a vice as he stared up at the lamia looming over them, his sword still at the Time Lord's throat. Taking advantage of his inattention, the Master seized his wrist and brutally twisted it in both hands until he heard it snap. The man howled in agony and dropped the sword, staggering backwards to be lost in the milling crowd.

Tejana saw the Master dive for the sword, just as the lamia struck at him, her distended fangs glistening with venom. But by now, overwhelming panic was sweeping through the audience like a forest fire, as it finally dawned on the onlookers that this was no carnival act. Everything dissolved into pandemonium. Shrieks of terror filled the air and people stampeded every which way, trampling anyone or anything that got in their way as they desperately tried to escape from the rampaging monster. Caught in the churning mob, Tejana struggled to get to her feet, only to be knocked down again. She was drowning in a sea of people and she was physically much too small to fight it. Kicks and blows rained down on her body as the heedless crowd surged over the top of her like a raging herd of buffalo.

_Oh gods, my baby! _she thought in terror, curling into a foetal position to protect her stomach from the onslaught as much as she could. _Please don't hurt my baby!_

She couldn't see anything at all. A painful blackness seemed to close in around her, bringing with it the very real possibility that both her life and her child's would end here, crushed to death beneath hundreds of uncaring feet.

_Think! _she told herself fiercely. _Don't just give in! Do something!_

Then, as if in a dream, she felt strong arms scooping her up and dragging her free of the screaming melee, cradling her safely against a broad chest.

"Bloody hell, Princess, do you ever go anywhere without getting into trouble?" a familiar voice said. "I can't leave you alone for a second."

"John!" she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck in sheer relief. "Oh, John, thank the gods. There was a monster...what happened to Koschei?"

Holding her protectively against him, Hart swung around, scanning the fleeing crowd. Tejana raised her head, trying to force her wavering vision to focus. The fairground was a complete shambles, all the stalls turned over and the tents destroyed, the ground littered with the bodies of those unfortunate enough to be trampled by the frenzied mob. Nearby, Silas's severed head grinned sickly up at them, his face splattered with his own blood, having been kicked back and forth in the panic like some sort of macabre football. In the distance, Tejana caught sight of a long, crimson tail slowly disappearing into the surrounding woodland, leaving a long smear of viscous green sludge in its wake. The lamia was obviously injured and bleeding. Had the Master done that? But where was he?

"There!" Hart said sharply, pointing.

Tejana gave a small cry of anguish. The crowd was thinning now and, not far away, she could see a dark figure lying face down on the ground. The sword was still held in his hand, the long blade stained green with lamia blood. He wasn't moving.

Still carrying Tejana as easily as if she was a child, Hart strode forward, ruthlessly kicking aside anyone in his path until he reached the fallen Time Lord. Sliding from his arms to the ground, Tejana fell to her knees beside the Master. "Koschei? Koschei!"

Carefully, Hart reached out and turned him over. More of the thick green substance was streaked through his ash-blonde hair and splattered across the front of his hoodie. His right sleeve was torn almost to ribbons, the black material soaked and heavy with his blood.

Slowly, his eyes opened. He looked dazed. "Always the women!" he muttered wryly, giving a wince of pain as he tried to move his injured arm.

"Lie still!" Tejana told him, her hearts swelling with relief. She smoothed her hand gently across his forehead. "You're hurt!"

"I should be dead," he replied, closing his eyes again. "That thing had every chance to rip my head off, but it didn't seem interested. It just sank its teeth into my arm instead."

Tejana felt a cold sensation settle in the pit of her stomach. Easing aside the shredded material of his sleeve, she looked at his arm. Two widely spaced puncture marks marked his flesh like small dagger wounds, still bleeding freely. Acting instinctively, she drew her knife and used it to tear several strips off the bottom of her already-short tunic. Ignoring the Master's irritable protests, she wound the improvised bandages firmly around his arm at the site of the lamia's bite, trying to restrict the flow of blood to his hearts.

"Keep your arm _still_, Koschei!" she snapped. "There's probably venom in your system and contracting the muscles will only make it spread!"

"Guess you were right all along, Princess," Hart commented, sitting back on his haunches and watching them both sardonically. "He really _doesn't_ do dead."

"Yeah, well, no thanks to you!" the Master rasped, brushing Tejana aside and trying to sit up. "Where the hell were you?"

"Sorry, Blondie, had a few problems of my own with some Lordsmen," Hart responded coolly. "I got here as soon as I could. And, speaking of Lordsmen, we really need to get out of here before they come back."

"We lost our horse," Tejana said in a distracted voice, her gaze resting anxiously on the Master, not liking the hectic, almost feverish look in his brown eyes.

"That's OK," Hart grinned and quirked his thumb with ghoulish humour towards the severed head lying nearby. "I'm thinking your friend Silas probably won't mind all that much if we borrow his. After that, we can call him the Horseless Headsman!"

Laughing loudly at his own joke, the ex-Time Agent sauntered off to round up the horses, leaving Tejana to help the Master to his feet. In a very short time, the three of them were galloping away, leaving the ruined fairground far behind them. Once mounted behind Tejana on their horse, the Master had insisted on taking the reins as usual, despite her protests, claiming to be perfectly fine regardless of the injury to his arm. But before they had ridden very far, his condition began to deteriorate markedly. Tejana could hear his respiration become laboured, his inhalations quick and shallow. Despite the heat radiating from the afternoon sun, his entire body was soon racked with convulsive shudders.

"Cold," he said fretfully. "So cold."

Alarmed, Tejana realised he was speaking in Gallifreyan. Grabbing his wrist, she felt for his double pulse. It was racing, and his skin was damp and clammy. He slumped wearily against her, no longer able to sit upright.

"Hart!" she yelled, seizing the reins from the Master's loosened grasp and bringing the horse to a halt. "We have to stop, right now."

Wheeling his stallion around, Hart cantered back towards them. Taking in the situation at a glance, he said, "There looks like there's some sort of ruined building just up ahead. We can take shelter there, just in case anyone's following us."

The building Hart was referring to was almost hidden in a small copse of trees. It was a strange, low structure made of stone, ancient and crumbling, not much more than a series of decaying arches and blackened wooden beams, open to the sky. The roof was long gone, the eroding walls curtained with rampant ivy, the interior overgrown with weeds and brambles. The hot wind blew in sporadic gusts through large, gaping holes in the lichen-covered masonry, whistling a mournful tune to itself.

"This place gives me the creeps," Tejana shivered as Hart helped her lift the Master down from the horse's back.

Hart glanced around at the tumble-down walls. "It's probably an old chapel," he said. "To the Ruach. Apparently she was some sort of goddess they used to worship on this planet centuries ago."

"Not a goddess," Tejana corrected automatically. "The Ruach is another name for the Spirit of the Universe."

"Yeah, whatever," Hart shrugged, not particularly interested in the details. "All I know is, when the Temple of the Pythia took over, worship of the Ruach was forbidden, on pain of death, and all the chapels were destroyed."

Tejana trailed her fingers over the weathered, sun-warmed stone of one of the arches as they passed under it. "Some things can never be completely destroyed," she said softly.

They laid the Master in the cool shade of one of the more complete walls and made him as comfortable as possible. Hart rifled through the gear stowed in the saddle-bags of Silas's horse and found a bed-roll for him to lie on, while Tejana tried to get him to drink from one of the water-skins. He was muttering incoherently now, drifting in and out of awareness of what was going on around him, his hair damp with sweat. Apprehensively, Tejana examined his injured arm. Beneath the constrictive bandages it was grossly swollen, the skin around the livid puncture marks turning bruise-dark.

"Oh, Koschei," she whispered, sickness rising in her throat at the awful sight.

"Ana," he said hoarsely, grasping her hand like a lifeline. "Can you see it, Ana? Can you?"

She swallowed hard. "Can I see what?"

"The grass," he replied, his eyes restless and distant. "The long red grass. Fields and fields of it, stretching right across the slopes of Mount Perdition." His grip on her hand tightened almost painfully. "Come with me, Ana. Come run with me!"

Tears streamed down her face. "Soon, love," she murmured soothingly. "We'll run together soon, I promise. But you need to rest now."

"Can't rest, no time," he muttered, his head tossing back and forth. Then he began to sing in a dry, cracked voice, "_Tick tock, goes the clock...especially for the Master._"

Tejana flinched, thoroughly unsettled by hearing the creepy song from his lips. "Oh gods, Koschei, don't!" she implored. "Please don't!"

She placed her free hand on his burning forehead and opened the psychic link between them, trying to ascertain how critical the danger to him was. To her immense relief, the venom from the bite did not appear to be life-threatening. The rejuvenation of his body by the nanogenes on board the Ship of the Eternals meant that he was strong and vital. Already, his Time Lord physiology was fighting off the effects of the poison and healing itself. But to Tejana's shock, in that moment of psychic joining, she suddenly saw that the attack by the lamia had not been a random occurrence - it had been a well-planned ambush. The creature's venom had been meant for the Master all along, with a distinct and sinister purpose. It was not designed to attack his body, but his mind. As the toxins rapidly progressed through his system, she could sense the memory barriers erected by the Doctor beginning to weaken, hanging by a thread, almost ready to fall away.

She snatched her hand back with a stifled exclamation. Jumping to her feet, she began to pace wildly back and forth, her thoughts piling up on top of one another. What was she supposed to do now? She still had no idea what was hidden in his mind. But one thing was clear – whoever their enemy was at the Temple of the Pythia, he was determined to make the Master remember, one way or another. Should she try to shore up the barriers herself? But with the venom already coursing through him, the resulting conflict might damage his consciousness beyond repair. Traps within traps, everywhere she turned. Somehow she had to make a decision that would keep him safe.

"What's going on?"

Whirling around, she saw Hart standing in the archway, his eyes narrowed as he watched her pacing up and down.

"He has a fever and he's delirious," she answered.

"How soon can he travel?" Hart asked, moving towards her. "Because the sooner we reach the Temple and get your TARDIS back, the better it will be for all of us."

But Tejana had already made her choice. "We're not going to the Temple."

Hart suddenly went very still. "_What?_"

"I said, we're not going to the Temple," she repeated stubbornly, all her uncertainty disappearing, sure now that what she was doing was right. "I'm taking him back to the village."

"The village! _Why?_"

"The old woman I met there - Mother Hulde – she was a healer. She's lived on Mnemosyne all her life. Maybe she'll know of some kind of cure to halt the progress of the lamia venom."

Hart shook his head. "You can't do that. We have to go to the Temple," he said, with peculiar emphasis.

"_You_ can go to hell as far as I'm concerned, Hart, I really couldn't care less," she snapped, his unusually intent gaze making her feel oddly disturbed. "But with or without you, as soon as it's dark, _I'm_ putting him on a horse and taking him back to Mother Hulde's."

He threw up his hands in frustration. "You do realise that she'll have no idea how to help him, don't you? He's a Time Lord. His biology couldn't be more different to what she's used to. She's not a doctor, she's just a little old woman who doles out herbs to people when they get the sniffles."

"You don't understand!" she shot back. "That lamia attack was no accident – it was intentional. The venom in his system is intended to break down his remaining memory barriers. This Dark Lord wants whatever it is that's hidden inside his head and he'll stop at nothing to get it. So I'll be damned if I'm going to meekly walk up to his Temple and offer it to him on a silver platter!"

"Oh, I understand, all right, a whole lot more than you think!" Hart snarled, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. "And you _are_ going to the Temple, whether you like it or not!"

"Get off me!" she said angrily, trying to pull away from him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Princess, you have to be the most stubborn, most infuriating, most sexy woman I've met in a very long time!" Hart returned grimly. "But you really, really need to shut up now."

With that, he pulled her to him and, before she could stop him, kissed her hard on the lips. Fighting hard, she struggled against him, still trying to get away – until, all at once, she felt an insidious weakness creeping along her limbs, a slow paralysis sweeping through her body. Horrified, she realised the mistake she had made. Jack's third rule for dealing with Hart rang in her ears: _Never, EVER let him kiss you._

_Oh gods, I'm such an idiot, _she thought bitterly. _I've allowed him to paralyse me, just like he did to Gwen back on Earth the first time we met._

Hart caught her deftly as she collapsed against him. "Oh dear, let your guard down a bit there, sweetheart!" he quipped, looking down into her face. Oddly, if Tejana hadn't known better, she would have thought she saw something very like real regret in his eyes. "You weren't starting to trust me after all, were you? What a shame! You know the drill. Paralysing lip gloss. Bit of a cliché, I know – same old, same old and all that. But sometimes I find the oldies are still the goodies."

Tejana stared furiously at him, unable to reply, her facial features completely frozen by the toxins contained in his lip gloss.

"As for what I'm doing, I'm afraid I'm selling you out," he continued, lowering her gently to sit on the ground, propped up against the wall like a life-sized doll. "Like I told you before, nothing personal, just business. Because, the thing is, when it comes to temporal energy, you and Blondie aren't the only game in town. I was telling the truth about my vortex manipulator – it really is burnt out. And I really do want to get off this planet. So when the Lord of the Pythia offered me a deal, it all seemed very straightforward. When a man calling himself 'the Master' turned up on Mnemosyne, all I had to do was to make sure he went voluntarily to the Temple, no matter what. In return, my energy cell would be recharged. Simple, right? Only then you turned up as well as Blondie and things got a little more interesting. Believe it or not, babe, I really was on your side there for a little while. I figured if I could get a recharge from your TARDIS, I wouldn't need that looney-tune whack-job at the Temple any more. And along the way I might even get a few brownie-points with Jack for saving your pretty skin." His face drooped in a comically sad expression. "Ah, but then you went and lost your TARDIS. Tsk, tsk...so very careless. And that forced me to change sides again. Crossing the Lord of the Pythia without a guaranteed escape route was definitely a big no-no. You were right, by the way, we were being watched all along. Those transparent creatures are called the Lich. They were the original inhabitants of this planet, before the humans came. The Dark Lord has promised to destroy all the humans and to return this world to them, as long as they serve the Temple for as long as he needs them. Whatever he wants with Blondie, he needs him in one piece. And he wants his memories released, which is why, once the mnemosis didn't work, the Lich brought me orders to lead the pair of you to that damned carnival. Everything's going to plan now, Princess – I'm _this_ close to finally getting out of here and I can't afford to let you interfere with that."

Tejana's green eyes flashed, her rage nearly choking her. The bastard was right. She had let her guard down. She actually had been on the verge of trusting him. And all the time, he had been playing both sides against the other, just as he always did. Wanting to kill him, she watched him put his head on one side and study her keenly, like some sort of laboratory specimen.

"I have to say, it's much more fun bantering with you when you can answer back, darling. It's a bit boring this way," he commented wryly. "Still, it's going to make getting you to the Temple a whole lot easier."

At that moment, as if vaguely sensing trouble through the enveloping mists of his delirium, the Master tried weakly to rise, only to fall back to the ground, his eyes bright with fever. "Ana?" he called in a hazy voice.

Hart smirked and crossed over to him, crouching down beside him. "Aw, Blondie," he said, gently caressing his hair. "Ana can't take your call right now. Maybe you should leave her a message after the beep."

Standing once more, he looked down and grinned, before adding loudly, "BEEP!" And drawing back his foot, he kicked the Master viciously in the ribs. The Master groaned in agony.

"That was a bit of payback for that leg wound you gave me," Hart told him cheerfully.

Horrified, Tejana tried to scream, but could force no sound through her frozen lips.

Then Hart kicked the Master again, even harder this time, his boot sinking deep into the injured Time Lord's stomach. "And _that's_ for killing Jack over eight hundred times. Nobody gets to hurt Jack except me, comprende?"

With that, the ex-Time Agent strode back over to Tejana and hoisted her on to his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I know you can hear me, Blondie. I'm taking Tejana to the Temple with me. And I've seen enough of you Time Lords to know that you can track her down wherever she goes. For whatever reason, the Dark Lord needs you to come to the Temple by your own choice. So, if I were you, I'd choose to follow her as quickly as possible, before something bad happens."

And, turning on his heel, he left, taking Tejana with him and leaving the Master crumpled on the ground.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: So there you have it. To all those people who have been predicting John's betrayal, it has finally happened! Hope you liked the chapter :)<strong>_


	22. Chapter 22

**_Author's Note: Thanks very much to those people who were kind enough to take the time to review the last chapter. Sorry I've taken a while to update, I haven't been very well again. So I very much appreciate the feedback from the following people, you made my week:- kari910, EmmaMarie, MayFairy, kie1993, Theta'sWorstNightmare, xxTeam-Masterxx, missawesome1213 (x 2), xNinjaxBunnyx, MountainLord-92, Bernice-Summerfield, Imorgen, Dryu, SawManiac211, Geraldine and Aietradaea. Love you all XXX  
><em>**

**_Special thanks to Aietradaea for looking over the flashback section of this chapter before I posted it, to make sure it made sense. Hope it makes sense to everyone else too!_  
><strong>

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY TWO<strong>

"I know you can hear me, Blondie. I'm taking Tejana to the Temple with me. And I've seen enough of you Time Lords to know that you can track her down wherever she goes. For whatever reason, the Dark Lord needs you to come to the Temple by your own choice. So, if I were you, I'd choose to follow her as quickly as possible, before something bad happens."

Hart's words ricocheted around the inside of the Master's head like machine gun bullets. Through the sickening fog that was trying to smother him, he saw the other man pick Tejana up and carry her away. Unreasoning anger pierced him. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, or who the man in the red jacket was. But one thing remained clear - Ana belonged to _him_. And no-one took what was his!

Dragging himself doggedly along the ground, he tried to follow. But then a white light seemed to explode inside his head and his face fell back into the waiting dirt.

* * *

><p>"<em>Come then, brother. Let me show you your ship."<em>

_Warily, the Master fell into step beside Kelios, his eyes playing intently over his surroundings, alert for any trickery. From the exterior scanners of the approaching shuttlecraft, he had already determined that, as its name suggested, The Cruciform was laid out in the shape of a gigantic cross, with the main body of the ship formed by one, long, narrow segment, divided above the midsection by a shorter, horizontal transept. The landing bay was located at the end of one of the arms of the cross. It wasn't too hard to guess that they were now heading towards the core of the ship, the area where the two parts intersected._

_Behind them, he could hear the measured tread of the three other men in the small group as they followed at a respectful distance. Kelios had not bothered to introduce any of them. They were dressed in dull coloured uniforms and their faces were eerily similar, bone-white and unremarkable, empty of all expression. The Master flicked a glance back towards them, his lip curling in distaste as he suddenly realised what they were._

"_Service droids," Kelios confirmed, following his gaze. "A necessary evil, I'm afraid. Until your arrival, my assistant and I were the only humanoid life-forms on board."_

_The Master looked at him incredulously, stopping dead in his tracks. "The entire ship is staffed by droids?"_

"_This project has been given the highest available security classification," Kelios shrugged. "Lord President Rassilon believes this is the ultimate weapon which will ensure his victory over the Daleks. Since the beginning of the War, a great deal of valuable information has been regularly leaked to Dalek spies. Droids are the safest way to prevent such espionage on board the Cruciform."_

_Another feeling of foreboding crept along the Master's spine, as he wondered yet again why Rassilon would allow a blacklisted renegade such as himself anywhere near such a key part of the Gallifreyan war machine._

"_And your assistant?" he queried. _

"_A Time Lord, absolutely trustworthy. His name is the Technician."_

"_The Technician?" The name meant nothing to the Master, but that was not surprising. He had been out of the loop for such a long time now, there must be any number of younger Time Lords he had never heard of. All the same, he reflected cynically, things must have changed a lot since he was at the Academy. Back then, no Time Lord worth his salt would tolerate being known as a Shabogan's assistant. But perhaps the Time War had changed even this, desperation driving the Time Lords into actions they would never have previously contemplated. _

_The Master smiled with sadistic pleasure at the thought, storing the information away for future consideration. Desperation was something that he understood, a weakness that could so easily be exploited and manipulated to suit his own ends. He had done it many, many times before and he had no scruples about doing it again, even if it came down to betraying his own people. After all, what had the Time Lords ever done for him?_

"_He waits for us at the Axis, the control centre of the ship," Kelios continued, beginning to walk again. "Come, Koschei, I will introduce you."_

"_My **name** is the Master," the Time Lord snarled, his skin crawling at the sound of his childhood name on his bastard half-brother's lips. "My Lord Master to you."_

_Kelios lowered his eyes, expertly concealing any emotion hidden within them. But once again, to his intense satisfaction, the Master clearly sensed the other man's barely-restrained hatred._

"_Of course," the Shabogan conceded smoothly, no trace of resentment evident in his carefully-modulated voice. "My Lord Master."_

_As they strode through the featureless grey corridors, the Master could feel sweat beginning to bead on his brow and trickle down his back. Making sure Kelios wasn't watching, he tugged uncomfortably at the tight collar of his uniform. The atmosphere on board the ship was humid and stifling, almost unbearably so. It reminded him strongly of the moist, rarefied air inside the great glass hydroponic cultivation domes on Gallifrey. Without warning, he found his mind wandering back to a time long, long ago, seeing again a tiny, blonde girl angrily throwing ripe red tomatoes at a pristine white greenhouse door. Annoyed at himself, he shoved the unwelcome memory away._

"_Your droids need to be more meticulous with their maintenance," he said sharply. "The air-conditioning must be malfunctioning. It's hotter than hell in here."_

_Kelios gave a small, tight smile. "There is no malfunction, my Lord Master. As you will soon discover, the heat in the atmosphere is necessary to fulfil the function of this ship."_

_As he spoke, they were approaching a large metal bulkhead door. "This is the Axis, the heart of the Cruciform," Kelios announced, keying in a coded sequence to the panel lock beside the door._

_The bulkhead slid open, revealing a huge, circular room. The Master drew in a harsh breath of surprise. He had been more or less expecting a standard ship's Bridge, but this was like nothing he had ever seen before. The curved walls bristled with technology, layered with complex control panels, countless winking lights and systems of advanced circuitry wherever he looked. Dozens of droids patrolled a service network of interconnecting gantries and catwalks, each of the robots working in synch to complete their assigned tasks, like some sort of perfectly choreographed dance. However, the Master paid little attention to them, or to the bulkhead door sliding shut behind him, transfixed instead by the glittering sphere that hung in the centre of the room. It was huge and astonishingly beautiful, like an enormous drop of water falling from above, somehow magically suspended in Time before it struck the floor, its reflective surface rippling with a rainbow of colours._

_Distracted by the amazing sight, it took him a moment to realise that someone was standing in front of him. It was a young man, with curly black hair and dark eyes, dressed in a Gallifreyan tunic and trousers. The insignia stitched into his left shoulder displayed the scarlet and orange colours of the Prydonian chapter. His sleeve also bore two emblems of honour, which the Master recognised as decorations for bravery. Whoever he was, this Technician was obviously no coward – at some time, he had seen front-line action against the Daleks. _

"_My Lord Master, this is the Technician," Kelios said. "Technician...the Master."_

"_No need to introduce us," the young Time Lord replied coldly. "We've already met."_

_The Master felt a surge of combined annoyance and amusement at his tone. Impudent young puppy! So they had met, had they? Not under amicable circumstances, going by the look on the boy's face. Come to think of it, he did seem vaguely familiar. But during his long life, the Master had made many enemies right throughout the galaxies and it wasn't always easy to keep them all separate in his mind._

"_You don't even remember, do you?" the Technician sneered, correctly interpreting the blank look on the other Time Lord's face. "The last time we met, you stasared me, kidnapped and nearly killed my best friend and then tried to destroy Gallifrey by opening the Eye of Harmony."_

_Finally, recognition dawned on the Master. "Ah, yes," he replied, his voice edged with contempt. "You were in the vaults under the Panopticon with the Doctor, weren't you? I never did know your name. Tejana's little boyfriend, trying to help save the world. How very noble of you."_

"_Damon," the young man said through his teeth. "My name is Damon of the House of Windcrest. And unlike you, you renegade bastard, I've always been loyal to Gallifrey."_

_The Master gave a short, bitter laugh. "Then you're a fool, boy. Because, believe me, they won't thank you for it."_

_Damon's eyes blazed with anger and his hands curled into fists, as though he intended to start throwing punches. The Master tensed, instinctively readying himself for a fight, more than happy to teach the boy a lesson in respect if that was what was required._

_But before anything could happen, Kelios cleared his throat loudly and stepped between the two Time Lords, trying to defuse the seething confrontation between them. "Perhaps we should remember why we're all here, to defeat our common enemy, the Daleks," he suggested calmly, holding Damon's gaze with his own. "Not to fight amongst ourselves. Remember our goal, Technician."_

_For a moment, it didn't look as if Damon would back down. But Kelios continued to stare at him insistently, his eyebrows raised, as if trying to make a silent point. In response, Damon finally raised his chin and forced his muscles to relax, dropping his fists to his sides. "As you say," he nodded. "Defeating the Daleks must be our top priority."_

"_Of course," the Master agreed sardonically, his suspicions reigniting at the obvious by-play between them. There was definitely some sort of hidden agenda here, which he needed to uncover as soon as possible. He remembered Damon more clearly now. When he had encountered him back on Gallifrey, the boy had been dressed as a Matrix Technician, a subordinate to that old dodderer, Co-ordinator Engin. His gaze slipped beyond the young Time Lord, returning to the wonder of the floating sphere. Perhaps it was some sort of thought bubble, a conduit for mental energy. He had heard of such things before._

"_As I recall, you used to be a Matrix technician," he said to Damon. "So...all this..." He gestured towards the sphere. "Does it have something to do with The Matrix?"_

_Kelios gave a snort of derision, his eyes gleaming avidly. "The Matrix! That crude, antiquated old bundle of circuits you Time Lords were so proud of? Oh no, my brother. The Matrix is nothing but a relic of the past. The Cruciform is the future!"_

_With that, he reached out to the nearest control panel and pulled a lever. Smoothly, the floor beneath the sphere began to retract, revealing a shallow pit, enclosed by a protective forcefield. Cradled within the slight indentation were what appeared to be millions and millions of tiny, glittering diamonds, closely packed together to form a shimmering, iridescent carpet. Even with the forcefield in place, the Master could feel the fierce heat radiating up from the pit and he suddenly realised that this was the source of the humidity seeping throughout the rest of the ship._

"_Psychic pollen," Kelios said. "A parasitic lifeform from the Candle Meadows of the planet Karass Don Slava. They feed on the darkness of the mind."_

_The Master's eyes narrowed uneasily as he surveyed the field of pulsating crystals. "I've heard of them, but I've never seen them before. What are you planning to use them for?" _

"_Once awakened by a constant heat source, just one grain is sufficient to send someone into a dream state and to manifest the dark side of their mind," Damon explained gravely. "There are over five million grains in that pit, fully exposed to an extreme temperature. The forcefield is the only thing currently protecting us from the effects. It's a psychic time-bomb, just waiting to go off."_

"_So this is your weapon?"_

"_Oh no, far from it. The psychic pollen is only the means by which we will **create** the ultimate weapon. It has long been recognised that the untapped potential of the dark side of even the most ordinary mind can be immense," Kelios replied, giving him a sly, meaningful look. "But your mind is no ordinary mind, is it, brother?"_

_The drums were beating wildly in the Master's head now, pounding out a terrifying warning, just as they had centuries ago when he first met Kelios in the tavern in Low Town. "My mind?"_

_The Shabogan's mouth curved in a tight, dark, fanatical smile. "The potential of a formidable mind such as yours - if harnessed correctly by my technology and augmented by the enhanced properties of the psychic pollen - is virtually unlimited. Just think, all the darkness hidden in the depths of your twisted, devious mind, magnified exponentially and manifested from thought into the realm of physical existence – a weapon unlike anything the Universe has seen before, capable of infinite, everlasting destruction! Thanks to you, we will literally recreate reality. Whatever can be imagined will be realised!"_

_With a stab of horror, the Master saw that the shining sphere was beginning to move towards him, faster and faster, skimming lightly across the glowing field of psychic pollen. He could see his own image reflected on the globular surface, his face and body bizarrely twisted, as if he was looking into a fun house mirror. Realising his danger, he began to back away like a hunted animal, but there was nowhere to go._

_Kelios laughed, the escalating merriment echoing in the Master's ears like the sound of madness. "Just like I told you, every part of this ship designed for **you**, Koschei of the House of Oakdown, right down to the very last component," he shouted in triumphant glee. "You are not the **commander** of the Cruciform, my brother. You **are** the Cruciform!" _

_And with that, the rippling sphere engulfed the Master, absorbing him into its glutinous shell and catapulting him into a never-ending nightmare._

* * *

><p>Hart spurred his black stallion to a gallop, obviously keen now to cover the distance to the Temple in the shortest time possible. Tejana lay frozen in his arms, as motionless and unresisting as a wooden doll, her mind seething with misery and rage. She remembered when she, Ianto, Owen and Tosh had found Gwen lying paralysed on the floor of the shipping container at the Cardiff docks – the terrible, agonised look of fear and anger in her eyes. Now Tejana understood only too well how Gwen had felt.<p>

The Master's mind lay like a hot coal at the back of her consciousness, a blazing welter of confusion and pain. The slow tide of venom had taken over completely now, seeping through his mind like smouldering lava, destroying every protection the Doctor had put in place, and Tejana had no way of helping him.

Concentrating fiercely, she struggled to move. But no matter how hard she tried, her body would not co-operate, every muscle remaining as still as stone.

"I can tell you're still fighting it, Princess," Hart said suddenly. "Not that I would expect anything different from you. Don't worry, I've got no intention of letting you die. We'll be at the Temple long before your organs start to shut down. But until then you may as well just relax. There's nothing you can do." He looked down at her with a small, mirthless grin. "Did I ever tell you it was Jack that taught me that lip-gloss trick, back when we were Time Agents together? Don't suppose he ever used it on a Time Lord before though. I wasn't even sure it would work, to tell you the truth. Still, it was always going to be worth a try - at the very least, I would have got a kiss from you out of it."

Tejana could feel the harshness of the gold braid on his jacket pushing into her cheek as he held her close to him, so different from the soft, worn material of the Master's hoodie. The light breeze of his breath ruffled her hair and she could smell the spiciness of his scent, a strangely attractive mingling of fresh sweat, leather and healthy, active male. The anger burnt even more brightly inside her, as she thought how safe this broad chest had seemed such a short time ago as he snatched her from certain death under the trampling feet of the crowd. She had thrown her arms around his neck, nestled close to him in her relief, felt comforted and protected, just as she would have with Jack. But all the time he had been planning to sell them out at the first opportunity. She was astonished at how much the betrayal hurt – after all, surely she knew John Hart far too well by now to ever be surprised at the depths of his duplicity?

Almost as thought he could read her thoughts, he continued, "I know it won't be much consolation, Princess, but if I had the choice, I'd much rather have stayed on your side. We've never really been friends, exactly, but for a while there, I thought we were getting close to working something out. And as for Blondie...well, let's just say he and I have a lot in common. Believe me, I've got no loyalty to that crazy wacko at the Temple – actually, it would have been a pleasure to double-cross him, because dealing with him makes my skin crawl, and after the life I've led, that's saying something. But I've been stranded on this crap-hole of a planet for five long, lonely years and it's driving me insane. If this is the only way for me to escape, then unfortunately that's how it has to be."

Strangely, Tejana could sense a genuine note of regret in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as her. Her eyes searched his face. There was no sign of his usual mocking arrogance. He just looked tired. She had never seen him with his guard down like this before. It was as though, because she could not move or answer back, he had forgotten that she was still listening and was talking to himself. At any other time, sensing the bleak, uncaring emptiness inside his soul, she might almost have felt sorry for him. But with the Master's pain eating away at the back of her mind like acid, she was unable to feel anything towards him but bitterness and resentment.

The terrain was gradually becoming more uneven now as they travelled closer and closer to the jagged blue mountain ranges, with enormous boulders scattered around amongst the closely packed trees, a legacy from some long ago volcanic upheaval.

"Mount Boreas," Hart said briefly, nodding towards one of the highest peaks, cloaked in white, fluffy clouds. "That's where we're headed. The Temple is about halfway up the mountain."

It took them about an hour of hard riding to reach the foot of the mountain and then another to climb to their destination. The air grew thinner and thinner as their altitude increased and Tejana found it more and more difficult to breathe, her failing lungs weighted down inside her frozen body. By now, with her vital organs beginning to shut down, she knew she should be feeling a surge of artron energy stirring deep inside, a sign that her Gallifreyan biology was responding to the threat to her life, heralding an imminent regeneration. But there was nothing. A chill crept through Tejana as she realised why – her pregnancy had temporarily suspended her capacity to regenerate. During the process of regeneration, every cell in a Time Lord's body needed to change, something that wasn't possible when one was carrying a child. If Hart did not administer the antidote to his poisonous lip-gloss soon, both she and her unborn son would die.

Upon their arrival, the entrance to the Temple turned out to be a huge door embedded in the side of the mountain. It appeared to be as ancient as the planet itself, surrounded with tumbled rocks and overgrown with creepers. But as they drew nearer, Tejana couldn't help making a shocked whimpering noise in her throat as she saw the horrifyingly familiar figure-of-eight symbol engraved on the door.

_Oh gods...the Symbol of Rassilon, _she thought dully. _The Master was right. Somehow this all comes back to Gallifrey. But how? What IS this place?_

As if in response to her silent questions, the massive door slid slowly back, opening a long, dark, uninviting slit into the mountain. Laying Tejana carefully across the back of his horse, Hart swung to the ground, before lifting her easily back into his arms. She could hear his single heart-beat under her ear, pounding out a hard, rapid tattoo.

"I hate this place," he muttered. Feeling the genuine shudder of distaste running through his body, Tejana's own anxiety increased a hundred-fold. However much of an asshole he was, John Hart had never been a coward. For him to be afraid, this place had to be very, very bad indeed.

"Well, Princess, here goes nothing." Gathering himself together, Hart carried Tejana towards the opening and stepped into the darkness. As her vision adjusted to the dim light, she realised they were standing in a huge room with a vaulted trapezoidal ceiling, transversed by heavy, steel beams. The floor was smooth polished metal and Tejana could just make out the wide, red lines painted on it, marking out a distinctive and very recognisable pattern.

"Remind you of anything?" Hart queried sardonically, continuing to walk. "The landing bay of a spaceship, by any chance?"

Despite the increasing agony of her constricted breathing, Tejana's brain was stubbornly fighting to put it all together. Oh yes, this was a landing bay, all right, Hart was right about that. But she had seen enough during the Time War to know that this was not just any old spaceship.

As improbable as it was, she would willingly bet every single one of her remaining lives that the Temple of the Pythia was actually a Gallifreyan battle-cruiser.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: For anyone who is unaware of the significance of the Master's memory of the little blonde girl throwing tomatoes, you'll need to go and read "My Bad Bad Angel", which is a spin-off one-shot of this series.<strong>_

_**Similarly, if you want to know the background of Damon's previous meeting with the Master, you'll need to read my other spin-off fic, "A Deadly Assassin".**_

_**Links to both stories are on my profile page.**_

_**I've lost a lot of confidence in my writing lately, probably due to my illness (which is why I requested Aietradaea to go over this chapter with me before I published it) - so if people could review and let me know what they think, I would be very grateful. Thanks :)** _


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's Note: Hi all. Thank you very much to all the following people for reviewing and reassuring me, love you all: NotxYetxDead, EmmaMarie, Aietradaea, BeckyBoo12221, undertaker013, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx, kie1993, Bernice-Summerfield, MountainLord-92, Catelly x 2, SawManiac211, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei x 2, irishartemis, Lexy Summers, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Lost Moon x 2, mericat, Geraldine, Dryu and Imorgen.**_

_**Special thanks to Aietradaea for again allowing me to bang her ear about this chapter and also for writing a new chapter of her "One Moment in Time" Bloopersverse fic, "Time Waits for No Woman", which is based on the dam-busting chapter and is very funny. Go and read it!**_

_**Bit of a long chapter this time, but I'm tired of staring at it and tying my brain in knots, so hopefully it gets across what I want it to...  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY THREE<strong>_  
><em>

_It was surprisingly dark inside the thought bubble and absolutely silent._

_At first, he fought hard, struggling for all he was worth, panic motivating him like a shot of adrenaline. But the glutinous membranes merely moved with him, clinging to him like a second skin, as if he had fallen into a vat of jelly. Before long, he gave up the effort and lay still, his body exhausted and spent._

_The insides of the bubble began to shift, positioning his limbs until he lay with his back straight, his legs together and his arms spread-eagled._

_In the shape of a cross, he thought dazedly to himself. I've been crucified at the centre of the ship._

_That's when it dawned on him that he was not alone. He could feel another consciousness seeping towards him, reaching out for him, enveloping his mind just as surely as the bubble had enveloped his body. Recoiling in horror, he tried to shut it out, but it was far too powerful, sweeping his defences aside as though they weren't even there. With his last fading independent thought, he realised it was the Cruciform itself. Just as Kelios had promised, the entire ship - every part of it, every component - created specifically for him. Sentient and self-aware, attuned to his brainwaves, configured to his DNA, impossible for him to resist. It had been waiting for him, needing its heart to be complete. And now he was here._

_With an overwhelming feeling of consummation, the ship's consciousness sank inexorably into his, merging completely and seamlessly, until his sense of self vanished altogether and he was no longer just the Master, but the Cruciform as well, the two of them inextricably intertwined. _

_Then the whispering began, vibrating throughout the bubble, insistent and sibilant, crawling into his head, caressing the inside of his skull. Black, filthy words, reminding him of every drop of pain he had ever experienced throughout his long life, every stab of rage, every surge of hate, every twisted need, every evil, murderous desire. _

_Fanning the depraved flames of his darkness into a roaring furnace that consumed everything else within him, burning higher and higher and higher, out of his control._

* * *

><p>One minute they weren't there, the next, they were. Slipping through the shadows, surrounding Hart and Tejana almost imperceptibly, silently escorting them through the long corridors of the Temple. The translucent creatures Hart had called the Lich, close to invisible in the pale, formless light, little more than a faint shimmer in the air.<p>

Hart's only reaction to their arrival was a slight hardening in his expression, the grim lines around his mouth deepening fractionally. But Tejana noticed that he tightened his arms around her, holding her much closer to him, as if he was worried the Lich would snatch her from him. Looking at their faces, she understood why he was anxious. Now that she was close to them, she could see that the servants of the Pythia were a very long way from being the gentle, kindly creatures she had imagined back when they had helped to save her and the Master from the kraken. Instead, their insubstantial features were avid and brutal, their moon-like eyes gleaming with silver hunger, their slavering mouths filled with razor-sharp fangs. But they made no attempt to touch her, merely loping along beside and behind Hart, closing them in and emphasising that there was no way back. The only way left was forward, deeper into the Temple.

Every step they took felt like a descent further and further into hell. The heat was increasing in intensity, as though they were approaching the core of a molten volcano, each breath of the thermal air scorching Tejana's already tortured lungs. Perspiration stung her eyes and, thanks to her unbreakable paralysis, she couldn't even give herself the relief of blinking it away.

But there was something else here, she could feel it. Something vile and black and perverted. A dark, seductive whispering seemed to sough around her, a beguiling voice filling her mind with promises of illicit, erotic delights beyond her wildest dreams, hot and tempting and sensual. _Tejanaaaaaaa..._The faint, loathsome susurration made her body ache with tainted desire, before it disappeared again, leaving her soul shuddering in horror.

Sensing something was wrong, Hart glanced down at her and saw the revulsion churning in her gaze. "Try to relax, Princess, you'll be fine," he muttered, misunderstanding the reason for her panic. "Won't be long now and I can give you the antidote."

_He didn't feel it_, she realised, looking into his eyes. He didn't like this place. His mind was percipient enough to recognise that it was wrong, something about it making him uneasy, like the sound of fingernails screeching down a blackboard. But despite the unusual acuteness of his human senses, he couldn't hear the subtle, evil murmuring that had briefly eddied around them.

Just then, they came to a heavy steel door that slowly slid open in front of them. Hart hesitated for a few seconds, as though he was drawing together his courage. Then he marched boldly through the opening, carrying Tejana with him, his head deliberately tilted with his usual devil-may-care arrogance. The Lich followed, steadily matching his every step like a guard of honour. As before, Hart ignored them totally, striding into the room as though he owned the place.

Tejana had a fleeting impression of a huge, dark, circular chamber. But before she could take in much more, the horrible whispering was back, louder than before, invading her ears and demanding her attention.

_Tejanaaaaaaa..._

_Get out! _she thought fiercely. She was usually adept at defending herself against psychic attacks of any sort, but this...this was like trying to repel smoke with her bare hands. _Get the hell out of my head!_

_Tick tock, goes the clock..._Distant laughter, echoing through the recesses of her mind, the eerie sound strangely familiar and yet elusive, slipping away from her mental grasp before she could identify it. Dimly, still fighting to breathe, she realised Hart was laying her on the ground before a large, black throne, like some kind of sacrificial offering.

"Tejanakaturadilena!" a deep voice said mockingly from above. "We meet again."

A man, looking down at her, straight out of her memories. Handsome features, closely-cut dark hair, glittering black eyes. And in his left ear, a golden ring. Kelios, the Master's brother, his face chillingly the same as it had been all that time ago.

"Ah, but you've regenerated since we last saw each other, haven't you? Once, twice, maybe even three times?" he continued, as if reading her mind. "I like your current body. So small, so fragile and yet your eyes so full of spirit. And dressed like a slave. Just the sort of thing that would suit my brother – no wonder he finds you so attractive."

She wanted to spit at him, scream that she knew exactly how he had managed to stay exactly the same for centuries, alive when he should be dead, at the expense of the lives of thousands of others. But the paralysis still held her fast and she could not move.

His attention shifted to Hart. "You are sure he will follow her?"

"He'll be here," the Captain said flatly. "From what I've seen, he'd follow her into Hell itself."

Kelios smiled mirthlessly, as though at some private joke. "An appropriate metaphor, Captain Hart. But why does she not speak?"

"Paralysing lip gloss. She's a little wildcat when she wants to be. It's the only way I could separate her from him and bring her here with a minimum of damage to either of us."

"Very ingenious," Kelios approved.

"Yeah. Just one drawback though," Hart said laconically. "The toxins that paralyse the body are eventually terminal. She's dying right in front of us."

Kelios leapt to his feet, fury exploding in his eyes. "_What?_"

"Take it easy!" Hart warned. "I know you want her alive. All I need to do is administer the antidote and she'll be as good as new."

"Then do it!" Kelios hissed. "Immediately."

The ex-Time Agent folded his arms with studied insolence. "Ah...now, here's the thing - no offence, pal, but I don't trust you. See, right now, you could very well be planning to...oh, I don't know... back out of our deal, for instance? Kill me instead of giving me the energy cell I need, just for kicks? Something along those lines, am I right?"

Kelios did not reply, his face twisting into a snarl, and Hart gave him a nasty grin, knowing that his guess had been accurate. "So this is the plan," he continued. "You give me the energy cell and _then_ I give Tejana the antidote, once my vortex manipulator is up and running again. Oh, and I wouldn't take too long to make up my mind if I were you...she's running out of time fast."

There was a deep silence. Tejana watched a drop of sweat trickle down the side of Hart's face, as though in slow motion, leaving a streak of moisture in its wake. He was clever, she would give him that. He'd played his hand well, covering all his bases, always thinking three steps ahead. Again she felt an unexpected jolt of hurt that her life was nothing to him, just another ace in his deck of cards.

Clearly realising he had no choice, Kelios reached into his dark robes and produced a small, flat, round silver disc and tossed it to Hart, who caught it deftly in one hand.

"As agreed, enough temporal energy for one person, one trip," the Shabogan said curtly. "Then you're on your own. I wouldn't want you to get any ideas about being a hero and rescuing anybody else."

Hart raised his arm and slotted the energy cell neatly into his Time-Agent wrist strap, which immediately glowed in response. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, satisfied that the energy cell was genuine. "Just so long as I can get off this godforsaken rock."

Hunkering down beside Tejana, he took her into his arms again, her head resting against his shoulder. "Have to administer the antidote the same way I gave you the poison, Princess. And since this is probably the last time we'll be seeing each other, let's do it properly, shall we?"

With that, he bent his head and his mouth firmly covered hers. Vaguely, Tejana realised that the antidote must have been on his lips all along, ready to give to her at a moment's notice. _Cunning bastard._ Despite his threats, he had never intended to allow her to die at all, no matter what Kelios chose to do. She had to admire his nerve – his bluff had been one hundred percent convincing.

The antidote was fast-acting and extremely effective. Even as his warm lips parted hers, she felt her body tingling as life returned to it, starting with her face and then moving downwards and out to her limbs in a steady tide. Hart's hand stroked across her cheek and tangled in her hair. This kiss was very different to his short, hard assault back in the ruined chapel. It was deep and erotic, his tongue hungrily exploring her mouth with experienced sensuality. It seemed that the lipstick trick wasn't the only thing Jack had taught him in their time together. Tejana gathered her returning strength, wanting nothing more than to pull away from him. But then the whispering came back, seeping into her brain, potent and hypnotic.

_He was strong. His body was hard. His mouth was practised, accomplished at giving pleasure. It felt so good, she wanted it, didn't she? Heat...lust...desire...she wanted it all. She wanted him. Now.  
><em>

Suddenly, she was kissing him back with frantic urgency, greedy for the taste of him, her tongue twining passionately with his, even though deep inside she was screaming that she didn't want this, had never, _ever_ wanted this. Physically, Hart was a very attractive man. Even back in her Torchwood days, a tiny, carnal part of her had always acknowledged that. But that was as far as it went. She had always despised him too much as a person to ever want anything more from him. It was as though the eerie, whispering voice had homed in on that infinitesimal hidden seed of attraction and had somehow intensified it beyond all proportion, transforming it against her will into this raging river of dark desire.

With a gasp, Hart jerked away from her, his face tight with shock. Like any other 51st century male, sex to him was nothing but a form of entertainment, all about casual pleasure. He had no moral boundaries at all. The more satisfaction he could get, the better, with anyone or anything available at the time. But he was also sharp enough to sense that this embrace had turned into something unbelievably corrupt – too corrupt even for him – an all-pervading evil swirling in the air around them. Getting to his feet, he stepped back, his expression tinged with apprehension, as though Tejana had somehow become contaminated by the Temple.

"Goodbye, Princess," he said. "Tell Blondie I said no hard feelings, OK?"

Tejana was on her hands and knees, breathing heavily, fighting to clear her mind. But the whispering would not leave her alone, digging into her brain, feeding the dark impulses she usually suppressed and starved.

_Was she just going to let him go like this? It was all his fault. He had hurt the Master, left him out there somewhere, alone and sick. He had poisoned her, brought her here against her will, sold her to Kelios like an animal. He had kissed her when he had no right, made her want him, made her betray the Master. All his fault. ALL HIS FAULT._

The need for revenge burnt through her as she watched him walk towards the exit, escalating rapidly. Anger. Hatred. Violence. Murder.

_Yesssss...he has to die. You need to kill him, NOW._

With a primal howl, she launched herself at his back, her fingers curled into claws as she tore at his face and neck with savage, unthinking brutality. Unprepared, he collapsed to the floor beneath her attack, desperately trying to defend himself against the onslaught. Tejana was tiny, but what she lacked in size she more than made up for in determination. The only thing on her mind was that Hart needed to die, digging her fingernails into his flesh, wanting to tear out his throat more than she had ever wanted anything in her life before.

"I'll kill you!" she shrieked. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

But before she could do it, two of the Lich seized her and dragged her away from Hart, throwing her bodily back to the foot of the throne. For a moment, she sprawled there, bruised and stunned, the breath knocked out of her.

Once more she heard the insane giggling in the back of her head. _Tick tock, goes the clock... _the voice sang in her ear, before the malevolent whispering receded away into the distance again, freeing her from its thrall, leaving her limp and depleted.

"It seems you have offended my guest, Captain Hart," Kelios remarked, resuming his seat on his throne. "I suggest you leave now, while you still can."

Hart climbed jerkily to his feet, swiping at the long scratches on his face with the back of his hand. The Lich eyed the vivid scarlet streaks smearing across his skin, their nostrils flaring avidly at the sweet copper smell of human blood. Then, with one last look at Tejana where she lay trembling on the floor, he turned and walked out the door, leaving her behind.

Kelios laughed as he went. "So, Tejana," he said mockingly. "As feisty as ever, I see. But kissing another man with such passion...just what would my brother have to say about that?"

Gritting her teeth, she raised her head. "There's something here, isn't there? Something _wrong_!" she forced out. "Something that's focusing on everything dark in my mind and magnifying it. What is it? _What have you done?_"

His cold, predatory eyes widened in unfeigned astonishment at her words. Lunging down from his throne, he came to crouch beside her where she lay, his hand crunching mercilessly on her upper arm like a vice. "You can _feel_ it!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Usually, anyone who comes here feels uncomfortable, uneasy, without knowing why. But you...your mind is so closely attuned to his, you can actually feel it." A flash of anger lit his face. "How is it possible? How did you find each other again? You shouldn't even be with him, let alone this securely bonded to him. That timeline was wiped out long ago."

"You failed!" Tejana shot back bitterly, hating him more every moment as she thought of the Master's baby nestling inside her, twining their destinies together for all time. "You and your ugly old crone of a mother. You tried to destroy him and you failed. He's given me his true name and I've given him mine. Not that I would expect a Shabogan like you to understand what that means. But he _will _come for me and, when he does, you're going to wish you'd never been born."

Kelios sneered into her face, stung by the haughty contempt in her tone. "You think so? You have no idea what this place is, do you, little Time Lady? No idea what his return here will do!"

"It's a not a temple, it's a Gallifreyan command ship," she retorted in pure defiance. "I knew that the minute I set foot in it."

Flinging her roughly aside, he rose to his feet and turned in a circle, his arms spread wide as if to encompass the entire room. "But not just any command ship. The _ultimate _command ship!" he announced triumphantly. "Lady Tejanakaturadilena, welcome to _The Cruciform_!"

* * *

><p>The Master slowly managed to drag himself upright, feeling the ancient walls of the old chapel crumbling under his clutching hands, his parched skin burning like the sun. Everything seemed to swim around him, his surroundings fading in and out, until he couldn't be sure what was real and what was not. For a moment, he drifted, thinking he was back in one of the lecture halls at the Academy, listening to Theta and Ushas having a heated argument over the ethics of experimentation on lesser species. But then the horse whickered softly somewhere nearby, pulling him back into the present. <em>Ana <em>– he had to get to Ana, before his bastard half-brother took her from him again. Swaying drunkenly, he staggered across to the stone archway, leaning his head against the decaying masonry just as the furious white light exploded again.

_He never knew how long he lay there, impaled like a butterfly on a pin, entombed in the black night of the thought bubble, the insistent whispering swelling and ebbing through his mind. But the more he listened, the more he understood that the voice was not unknown, not alien, not other. It was an integral part of him, the deepest, darkest part of his damaged soul brought to the surface by the thought bubble, devoid of all light or hope, intent on reclaiming him as its own. _

_The Master was no stranger to his own darkness. When he had walked away from the Untempered Schism at the age of eight, it had walked with him, his constant companion forever after, close to his side, marching to the never-ending drumbeat that echoed inside his head. He had used it many, many times as a weapon, like a good sword, calling upon it at need to do his bidding. But no matter how many evil things he had done, he had always managed to just hold the darkness in check, refusing to allow it to erase the tiny part of him that was still Koschei, somehow clinging to the last vestiges of his sanity, never quite falling into the pit of despair that waited so patiently for him. Now, awakened fully by the power of The Cruciform, it seemed the blackness wanted complete and utter control._

_Chaos, the voice hissed persuasively in his mind, rejoicing in its growing strength. I am Chaos. Death and destruction and devastation. Every nightmare you have ever suffered, brought to life and visited on the Universe. All that can be imagined can be realised..._

_Points of light gleamed before him in the obsidian blackness of his sight. Stars. They were stars, travelling past him at light speed. Somehow, through his mental connection to the Cruciform, he was seeing exactly what the exterior scanners of the mighty ship saw as it cleaved through the eternal night of the space/time continuum. _

_A stunning burst of colour shimmered across his vision – red, green, blue, purple, orange – molten, rippling cosmic mists spun by invisible solar winds, billowing across the galaxy, floating into eternity, as far as the eye could see. He knew immediately where he was. There was no other place like this in the Universe. Two immense white dwarf stars, one named Charybdis, the other named Scylla. Side by side, each surrounded by a spectacular rainbow-coloured nebula, separated only by a narrow channel of clear space. Collectively, the two primordial stars were known to the Time Lords as the Gates of Elysium. Beyond the Gates, accessible only through the channel between them, lay the septenary of constellations called the Seven Systems, the largest and closest of which was Kasterborous, in which Gallifrey was situated. Once a Time Lord came to the Gates of Elysium, he always relaxed, knowing he was nearly home._

_This had always been a peaceful, serene place, where artists had come from everywhere to paint iconic pictures of the famous twin phenomena, to hang in galleries across the Universe. But now all that had changed. Two mighty fleets faced each other, two ancient, powerful civilisations locked in an endless battle for the sake of all creation. The Time Lord task force spread out across the entrance to the Gates, squadron after menacing squadron of battle-TARDISes, bowships, black-hole carriers, and command ships, all prominently emblazoned with the figure-of-eight symbol of Rassilon, eerily back-lit by the glorious shifting colours of the nebulae. Advancing towards them, outnumbering the defenders by more than ten to one, was an immense bronze-coloured wall of Dalek saucers, each ship carrying more than two thousand Daleks. The attack was being led by a larger saucer, an Exterminator-class flagship which the Master guessed belonged to Davros, the Daleks' Imperial Commander and supreme tactician._

_Weapons flared and burnt across space, lighting the darkness with brilliant, lethal bursts of illumination. Waves of high-tech laser fire and targeted temporal fusion bombs poured from the Dalek ships, wreaking extreme damage amongst the Time Lord fleet. The grey, cube-like battle-TARDISes were fighting back valiantly, materialising in and out around the Dalek saucers like ghosts, firing time torpedo after time torpedo at the enemy ships, freezing them in time and leaving them floating helplessly, suspended in a glowing halo of light. The antiquated Gallifreyan bowships launched great bolts of steel through space, annihilating whatever they struck with a glaring ball of orange flame, while the sleek, deadly black-hole carriers hurled photon spheres into the combat zone, sucking the Dalek saucers into the event horizons of tethered gravitational singularities, where they were summarily destroyed. The slower moving Time Lord command-ships fought with huge sonic cannons, sending great waves of sound shuddering through the silent void, literally shaking the Dalek ships apart from the inside._

_The sector immediately before the Gates had become a treacherous minefield of rips in the time-space continuum, a permanent aftermath of the devastating weaponry being deployed. Rogue time-fields flashed in and out of the combat zone, glowing a phosphorescent green like corpse-lights, consuming the unwary on both sides. Wreckage was strewn across the battlefield, huge chunks of twisted metal floating past like distorted islands, a solemn testimony to the hundreds of lives being lost in the war._

_With the added power supplied by his connection to the Cruciform, the Master found he was able to sense each and every individual Time Lord mind across the battlefield, glimmering like stars within the psychic link. Many of them he knew well from his early days on Gallifrey – Jelpax, Drax, Gomer, Rodan, Savar, the Corsair - he even thought he caught a glimpse of the Rani, although it was only fleeting, so he couldn't be sure. Others were strange to him, newer, younger Time Lords like Damon, all of them loyally prepared to fight and die in defence of Gallifrey. And of course, as always, he sensed the Doctor, the consciousness of his old enemy shining like a beacon amid the others. He was in control of one of the Gallifreyan command ships, responsible for holding a key, strategic part of the line. The Master could feel his familiar iron determination, tempered by his sadness at the necessity for such loss of life on both sides. And underlying that, his grief at his bitter estrangement from his daughter over the destruction of Trion. Tejana – where was she? Questing further within the link, the Master finally found her, commanding a battle-TARDIS in the very centre of a fierce skirmish, her mind empty of anything except hate and the desire to kill every last Dalek. It was clear that she no longer cared if she lived or died, flinging herself into the battle with headlong abandon, taking any risk if it meant inflicting maximum casualties on the enemy._

_But the Daleks just kept on coming. No matter how hard the Time Lords fought, for every enemy saucer they destroyed, ten more would come to take its place. Little by little, the Gallifreyan fleet was losing ground, forced to fall back closer and closer to the Gates of Elysium. Led by Davros' flagship, the Daleks pressed their advantage, eager to wipe out the Time Lord defenders and to pour through the Gates into the Seven Systems._

_The drums beat louder and louder in the Master's head as he surveyed the bloody conflict, the darkness whispering and gibbering in his ears in rising excitement and pleasure at the violence and destruction. One...two...three...four. One...two...three...four. One...two...three...four. Faster and faster and faster, wild and urgent. Without warning, the Cruciform hummed into life, beginning to pulse around him in perfect synchronisation with the drums. The thought bubble was suffused by a deep, blood-red glow, a heady elixir of power throbbing through him, warming his veins with delicious anticipation. He could feel the shadows inside him responding eagerly, unfurling in his chest like a poisonous flower, wanting to hurt, wanting to destroy, wanting to kill. _

_And at the exact same moment, a vermilion flicker of incandescence appeared at the heart of the Dalek fleet, spinning and growing at an incredible rate, an amorphous mass creating itself out of nothing. It was difficult to see precisely what the rapidly-forming creature looked like. It appeared to be made of lurid scarlet light, filmy and transparent, its form indistinct and liquid, changing all the time. _

_Again the Cruciform pulsed, drawing more and more darkness from the Master's mind. A bolt of combined agony and ecstasy convulsed through his brain. The leviathan began to uncoil itself further, sprouting eight jointed legs like a spider and a thrashing tail like a scorpion, tipped by a sharp, vicious barb. Jagged spines erupted along its back, while its massive jaws yawned wide in a terrible leer. Bunches of thin, thrashing protuberances burst from its body, writhing madly into space towards the surrounding Dalek ships. The ghostly tentacles seemed to pass right through the enemy ships, but each one they penetrated disintegrated into dust. _

_Taken by surprise, the Dalek ships began to fire back. Confusion washed through the psychic link as the Time Lords saw their enemies breaking off hostilities, drawing back from the Gates and reforming to face this new, unexpected threat. Confident in the strength of their weaponry, the Daleks unleashed a storm of laser fire on the constantly-morphing creature. But with every hit it took, it only grew larger and larger, more deadly tentacles exploding with horrific speed from each and every wound, lashing out at the Dalek saucers. _

_The darkness inside the Master was laughing insanely now, rejoicing as each ship was destroyed._

_Decimate them, it hissed in savage joy. Annihilate them!_

_Absorbing the energy of the Dalek weapons, the creature had grown to an enormous size, its shape shifting and changing even more swiftly than before, its tentacles multiplying until they almost filled the entire sector. The attacking Dalek ships looked like nothing more than tiny mosquitoes trying to bring down an elephant. Hundreds and hundreds of them fell, turned into dust, as Davros' proud fleet was crippled and demolished before his very eyes._

_At last, accepting the futility of the battle, the order for retreat was given and the Daleks turned to run. But it was far, far too late. The Daleks didn't know it, but they were already dead. One by one, the fleeing ships were seized and destroyed by the ghostly writhing arms. Any that came too close to the Gates of Elysium were finished off by the Time Lord defenders, who were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if they had no idea exactly what was going on._

_Soon, out of thousands of ships, only Davros' flagship was left. Slowly, almost lazily, the monster's giant jaws opened, remorselessly bearing down on the large, armoured saucer. Both the Master's hearts quivered in anticipation and triumph. He would succeed where the Doctor had failed so long ago – he would be the one to destroy Davros._

_But then, even as the monster's jaws began to close, another ship darted into the fray. It was the Doctor's command-ship. A shimmering blue tractor beam shot out, locking on to the struggling saucer and beginning to drag it clear. _

_The fool, the stupid, sentimental, pacifist fool, always trying to extend the hand of peace to his enemies – he was trying to rescue Davros!_

_Then he will die! snarled the dark, whispery voice. _

_Again the Cruciform pulsed and a long, red tentacle went hurtling towards the Doctor's ship, bringing death in its wake. But this time, without even quite knowing why he did it, the Master fought back, pushing back the darkness, struggling for control of his own formidable mind. At the last moment, just before the tentacle impacted with the other Time Lord's ship, he managed to shift it aside, sending it veering harmlessly off into space._

_But the attack had forced the Doctor to take evasive action, disrupting the tractor beam and allowing Davros' ship to slip free, tumbling end over end into the mouth of the monster born from the Master's dark and twisted dreams._

_Into the jaws of his Nightmare Child. _


	24. Chapter 24

**_Author's Note: Hello all! At last another update. This will probably be the last one before Christmas, since I'm going back into hospital next week. So, just in case, I'll say Merry Christmas to you all and I hope you have a lovely festive season. It's been a bit of a tough year for me this year, so sincere thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review my stories and make me smile, you'll never know what a help you have all been._**

**_Particular thanks to the folks who reviewed the last chapter: GuesssWho, mericat, EmmaMarie, Bernice Summerfield, xxTeam-Masterxx, Aietradaea, kie1993, MountainLord-92, BeckyBoo12221, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Dryu, MayFairy, Imorgen, Lexy Summers and Lost Moon._**

**_To Lexy Summers: Thanks so much for continuing to review. I'm sorry I can't reply to you personally, because your PMs are currently disabled, but I just wanted to let you know I appreciate your feedback very much._**

**_Ciao for now.  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR<strong>

Aching all over, Tejana struggled to raise her head from the floor where Kelios had thrown her. His triumphant words sparked an involuntary shimmer of recollection from her memory: a great, black, cross-shaped ship sliding through the galaxies like an enormous, predatory shadow, almost invisible against the darkness of space.

"The_ Cruciform?_" She could hardly manage to raise her voice above a tortured whisper. Just saying the words made her feel almost sick with fear and she wasn't sure why. It was as if every negative emotion inside her was being pulled to the surface and intensified – her slight physical attraction to Hart heightened into a surge of desperate lust; her anger at his betrayal amplified into murderous rage; and now her fear of Kelios, her loathing of his touch, had been magnified into this crippling, unreasoning terror. Whatever was in this place, whatever the unseen presence was, it was playing mind games inside her head and she couldn't seem to stop it. She took a deep breath, trying to control the panic she felt crawling up inside her, digging in clawed feet like a living thing. "The Master's command ship from the Time War? That's not possible. It was destroyed by _the Moment_ like everything else."

"And who told you that, Lady Tejana?" Kelios sneered. "My brother? But, as we both know, thanks to your meddling father, his memories of the Time War are hardly reliable, now are they?"

"What does my father have to do with this?"

Kelios's eyes glittered with overwhelming rage. Moving towards her, he lashed out with his foot, striking her roughly in the left shoulder and forcing her to her back on the floor. Then he placed his boot on her throat, the weight of it threatening to crush her windpipe.

"_Everything!_" he snarled, glaring savagely down at her, as if he wished it was the Doctor he held at his mercy instead of his daughter. "I should have killed him when I had the chance centuries ago, back in Low Town the first time I met him! It's thanks to him that the most powerful weapon in the history of the Universe lies entombed here on this miserable planet. But his interference has gained him little. The_ Cruciform_ will rise again and, when it does, the war will go on."

"The Time War's over!" Tejana choked out, forcing herself to remain still instead of fighting the constriction of his foot on her throat. "Don't you get it? Whatever your plan is, you're already too late. He finished it long ago. There's nothing left. No Gallifrey, no Time Lords, no Dalek Empire, nothing! It's all gone! And finding some old battle cruiser on this backwater planet isn't going to change that."

Kelios laughed derisively. "Spoken with the arrogance of a true Time Lord, so sure that the petty, banal concerns of your people are the only thing that could ever possibly matter. The Time War was _nothing_, only the smallest blip on my horizon, merely a testing ground for the capabilities of the_ Cruciform_. The war I speak of is _my_ war with the rest of the Universe."

Feeling suddenly dizzy, Tejana closed her eyes, not wanting to see the look on his face, a look which was suddenly all too familiar. She had seen it often enough before on the Master's face over the centuries.

_Oh gods, what is it with the House of Oakdown?_ she wondered in disbelief. _Are they ALL born with the megalomaniac gene?_

Then, remembering the tiny baby nestling inside her, she immediately shut the unsettling thought out, not even wanting to consider what the implications could be for her own son. To her relief, Kelios moved his foot away from her throat, allowing her to breathe freely again. As she opened her eyes, she saw him stalking back to resume his seat on his throne. Her hand crept up to soothe the soft, bruised skin of her neck, praying she wasn't going to vomit. Other than that, she was still careful not to move. Gloating seemed to be a pastime Kelios enjoyed, something else he had in common with his brother. The Master had never been able to resist talking about his plans. Perhaps, if she didn't interrupt, Kelios might keep on bragging and she could find out what the hell was going on.

Sure enough, once he was seated, he continued in a bitter tone, "Long before the Time War began, my scientific research into the use of psychic pollen to tap into the power of the dark side of the mind was proving to be extremely fruitful. However, back then, Lady President Romana ordered my work to be abandoned. Apparently she considered such practices to be 'immoral' and 'unethical'. But once the War began, and the other Time Lords suddenly realised how ill-equipped they were to fight it, they resurrected Rassilon and deposed Romana. Lord President Rassilon recognised the possibilities of my research immediately. He knew he needed a scientific genius to match Davros if he was to win the War. So he offered to supply me with every resource I needed, including full access to The Matrix, if I could provide him a weapon he could use to achieve total victory against the Daleks."

Despite her caution, something of Tejana's shock at his words must have shown in her face, because he said caustically, "Are you surprised that the President of the Time Lords would allow a lowly, half-breed Shabogan access to your precious Matrix? Rassilon's only thought was to win the War, Lady Tejana, at any price - he had no care for how he did it. More Time Lord arrogance! He actually expected me to be _honoured _to be allowed to help him, even though I had been scorned and despised by the people of the Citadel all my life. He even provided me with a Time Lord to assist me with my work, one of the best Matrix technicians on Gallifrey. Together, combining his knowledge of the Matrix technology and my expertise with the psychic pollen, we built a weapon more formidable than any that had gone before, a weapon that could extract the dark impulses from a person's mind and manifest them from mere nightmare into reality. But even then we knew only a Time Lord mind would ever be strong enough to withstand the enormous strain of the_ Cruciform_. And there was only one Time Lord with a mind dark enough for our purposes."

Tejana gasped and sat up abruptly, everything suddenly starting to become clear to her. "The Master," she said in horror. "You're talking about the Master."

Kelios laughed again. "Rassilon arranged for him to be resurrected. He lied to him, tricked him aboard, thinking he was to be the ship's commander. And then the_ Cruciform_ took him for its own."

"You bastard!" she spat furiously. "Hadn't you already done enough to him?"

"Enough?" Kelios snarled. "Nothing I can ever do to him will be enough! He stole my name, my birthright, my life! _I_ am Lord Oakdown's eldest son. _I _should have been the heir, not him! I should have been a Time Lord, honoured and respected, instead of being treated with contempt all my life!"

"What your father did wasn't the Master's fault! You can't blame him just for being born! He had no more choice about the way things turned out than you did!"

"Such a touching speech - you defend him so passionately, my dear," Kelios mocked. "It's all so simple for you in hindsight, isn't it, now that he's your lover? But what would you have said back then, I wonder? If I had given you the choice between his freedom and victory in the Time War? The life of Gallifrey's most evil son in exchange for the total annihilation of the Daleks - what would you have chosen?"

Tejana couldn't answer him, she had no words to say. She felt like he had punched her suddenly in the stomach. Because she knew exactly what she would have chosen back then. In those days, nothing had mattered to her except destroying the Daleks and getting vengeance for the massacre on Trion. The Master's life would have been a small price to pay, not even the tiniest blip on her radar in the midst of all that driving hate. Now, the very thought of what he had suffered burnt her from the inside out.

Kelios gave a cruel smile at her tell-tale silence. "As I thought. To the other Time Lords he was never anything more than...what shall we say...collateral damage? Especially once Rassilon and the High Council saw the initial results of my work."

"_What_ results?" she bit out.

He rose lithely to his feet and came to stand over her once more, like a beast stalking its prey. "You don't even understand what you've been sleeping with, do you, Lady Tejana? You've given yourself into the keeping of a monster - a man whose mind is so dark and twisted that it birthed some of the greatest horrors of the Time War. The Nightmare Child, the Requiem of Arcadia, the Skaro Degradations..."

Tejana shook her head in frantic rejection, the names he spoke with such malicious delight bringing it all back, everything she had tried so hard to forget, all the blackness and desolation of the War. All around her, the voice of the _Cruciform_ whispered and gibbered and giggled, the loathsome sound stroking along her bare flesh like moist, heated fingertips as the soulless ship fed eagerly on her distress. Every one of those fearsome, legendary things, dread-filled names that even now were often only spoken in whispers or even not at all – was it really possible that they had been drawn and manifested from the Master's mind?

"No...the Skaro Degradations fought on the side of the Daleks," she gasped, trying to cling to any fact that could contradict what he was telling her. "They killed hundreds of Time Lords. I was there!"

Crouching beside her, Kelios reached out and buried his hand in her hair, roughly dragging her head back so that he could glare into her face. "Do you really think I wanted the Time Lords to _win_?" he spat. "They were as much my enemy as the Daleks. The _Cruciform_ could have achieved victory for Rassilon in the first year of the War, had I allowed it. But that did not suit my purpose."

Tejana stared back at his, her features darkening into an expression of pure contempt as she suddenly understood what he was telling her. "You were working for the Daleks too, playing traitor all along, pitting both sides against each other!"

"The perfect revenge, don't you think? And once the two mightiest races in the Universe destroyed each other, the real war could begin. _My_ war, using the _Cruciform_ to destroy and conquer wherever I chose. So I gave the Dalek Emperor the Skaro Degradations. And I gave him the Horde of Travesties." His hand tightened even further in Tejana's hair, almost pulling it out by the roots, his eyes avidly taunting hers. "You remember the Horde of Travesties, don't you, Tejana?"

_The Horde of Travesties..._the whispering voice echoed malevolently. _The Horde of Travesties...you remember the Horde of Travesties, Tejana..._

She wanted to turn her face away, didn't want him to make her remember, but he held her fast, drinking in her pain as it all came rushing back.

* * *

><p><em>There was fire around her everywhere, blazing out of control, live wires hanging down from the ceiling twitching and popping dangerously, the air filled with a confusion of searing heat and acrid smoke. The entire control room of the battle-TARDIS was listing vaguely to the port-side, the time rotor shuddering violently as it struggled to keep oscillating. Somewhere in the distance, the cloister bell was tolling dolefully as the TARDIS did her best to warn her occupants of imminent disaster.<em>

"_Report!" Tejana yelled, clinging to the console as more tremors ripped through the room._

_The navigator, a young, dark-haired Time Lady named Shalan, was frantically flipping switches and pulling levers across the control panels. "Seventy eight percent of our systems compromised, Commander," she responded. "All defensive shields are down."_

"_Lieutenants Arden and Melnax are both dead," Sub-Commander Timon, Tejana's second-in-charge, added from where he was crouched beside two mangled bodies on the floor. "No regeneration possible."_

_Tejana wasn't surprised at the news. Dalek weapons were specifically designed to kill Time Lords outright. Once they were hit, neither of her two lieutenants had any chance at all. She knew she should feel something at their loss – sorrow, grief, regret, rage. Both Arden and Melnax had been good men. Under different circumstances, they might even have been good friends. But the War seemed to have enclosed her in a cocoon of ice. She didn't get emotional any more. In fact, she rarely felt anything at all, except the hate. Things like warmth, comfort and friendship seemed far away now, part of a different life, no longer relevant. The only thing that mattered was killing as many Daleks as possible._

"_Timon, take Arden's place at the warp silo," she ordered curtly. "You're our gunner now."_

_Bending, he stripped the weapons trajectory visor from Arden's dead face and placed it over his own eyes, before obediently settling himself into the launch station. "Yes, Commander."_

_Shalan's dark eyes were wide with panic. "Commander, we can't last much longer, the TARDIS is breaking apart. We need to get back to one of the command ships as soon as possible."_

"_Can we still materialise?"_

"_Yes, but..."_

"_Then we can still complete the mission," Tejana said flatly. "The Supreme Dalek is on board that saucer. If we can take it out, this battle will be ours."_

_Shalan looked like she wanted to keep arguing, but didn't dare. Tejana couldn't blame her. She was young and didn't want to die. But the only way to destroy the Dalek command-saucer was to do something they wouldn't expect._

"_Shalan, divert all remaining auxiliary power to cloaking the outer plasmic shell," she instructed. "Timon, arm the warp silo and prepare to fire."_

"_Yes, Commander," they chorused._

_Tejana turned her focus inward, to the psychic link. The Time Lords rarely used ship-to-ship communication between commanders. Using the psychic link was much safer, as the Daleks had no way of intercepting the transmission._

Drax, are you still with me?

Right 'ere, sweet-'eart,_ came the other Time Lord's mental voice, loud and clear. _ Question is, are you still with me? That was quite a bollocking you just took.

_Commander Drax had attended the Time Lord Academy at the same time as the Doctor, before turning renegade and abandoning his home planet, roaming the Universe doing repair and maintenance work for whoever would pay him enough, in fields ranging from cybernetics to guidance systems to armaments. But unfortunately for him, he hadn't been able to stay on the run forever - like every other Time Lord that had ever left Gallifrey, he had eventually been summoned home by Lord President Rassilon and given no choice but to serve in the Time War. Due to his proficiency with antiquated technology, he had been given command of the squad of ancient bowships left over from the Great Vampire Wars._

_As a commander, he tended to pay very little heed to military protocols or formalities. At one point in his earlier travels, his TARDIS had broken down on Earth and he had tried to steal some parts to repair it, a bungled job resulting in an extended term spent in Brixton Prison. During his stay, in an attempt to blend in, he had picked up the local Cockney dialect and idioms, which had inexplicably remained part of his speech patterns throughout all his subsequent regenerations. He was perennially cheerful and irreverent, forever calling her "luv", or "sweet-'eart" or – even worse - "ducks". He was blunt and to-the-point, quick with a joke when the time was right, but deadly serious when it was not. Tejana both liked and respected him. Despite his maverick ways, there was no-one she would rather have at her back in a fight._

We've sustained some damage, but we're still viable. We can still take out that command-saucer, if I can trust you to come through for me.

_She could almost hear Drax grinning ruefully in her head. _Ooooh, why do I not like the sound of that? _ he grumbled. _Whaddaya got in mind this time?

I saw the command-saucer take a direct hit from Commander Jelpax's sonic cannon, right before the Daleks managed to destroy his ship,_ she told him._

Poor old Jelpax, always was a bit slow off the mark,_ Drax said, a note of genuine sadness weighing down his voice. Commander Jelpax had been another one of his old classmates, one of the few remaining members of the Deca._

I'm guessing the saucer's shields were compromised at the impact site,_ Tejana continued. _If my team can triangulate the exact spot and we can materialise straight out of the vortex close enough to fire a time torpedo into it, we can freeze them in time for long enough for you to finish the job with one of your bolts.

Materialising virtually on top of a fully-armed battle-saucer? Not on your nelly! _he objected forcefully. _That would be risky enough with an undamaged TARDIS. But with the barrage you just took, it's nothin' short of bleedin' suicide!

Listen to me, Drax! No-one else has managed to even land a hit on it up until now. Right now, even as we speak, their shields are probably regenerating – this could be our one and only chance! Jelpax and his crew died for this and I'm not going to let that sacrifice be in vain!

_There was a long pause as Drax hesitated. Then he sighed, _You really are Thete's daughter, aren't you? All right, if you put it that way, I'm in.

_Satisfied, Tejana began rapping out orders to her remaining crew. Of the original six team members, only she, Shalan and Timon were left. Young Time Lords in the Academy were always taught that it was not possible to fly a TARDIS without a full complement of pilots. But after racketing around the Universe with the Doctor for nearly half her life, Tejana knew that just wasn't true. It was just something the older Time Lords told the students to discourage any runaways. After all, it was a lot harder to get six people to agree to escape together than it was for just one to decide to dash off on his own, as the Doctor had done so long ago._

_Tejana's elite strike-team were some of the best. No matter how difficult the task appeared, she knew the three of them could do this. Despite her youth and inexperience, Shalan was a highly-skilled navigator and temporal engineer. If anyone could calculate the exact spot they needed to hit, it was her. And while Timon was not the expert marksman Arden had been, he was still extremely proficient, not to mention being one of the calmest people in a crisis she had ever met. With him as their gunner, hitting their target was definitely not going to be a problem._

"_Right," she said, even as another series of sparks seared across the console with a harsh, popping sound. "Let's do this while we still can."_

_Shalan stood by the navigation terminal, her fingers passing swiftly over the keys, her entire body tense and alert. "Ready, Commander," she responded._

"_Three...two...one...Engage!" Tejana yelled, slamming down the de-materialisation lever with one hand, the other steady on the helmic regulator, preparing to pilot them through the Time Vortex._

_The time-rotor screamed into life, sawing back and forth madly as the TARDIS spun through the whirling Vortex. The scanner in front of Tejana showed leaping orange flames swirling around the outside of the ship. Grimly, she realised that, without the protection of the exterior shields, the temporal friction inside the Vortex was causing the outer casing of the TARDIS to burn away._

So much for the subtle approach_, she reflected wryly. _We're going to look like a fireball sent straight from hell.

_Somehow the image was oddly satisfying. Because that was exactly where every last Dalek belonged – in the depths of whatever hell she could send them to, no matter what the cost. Drax's words rang in her ears, _You really are Thete's daughter, aren't you? _ A shiver of pain ran through her at the bitter irony. The blackness and hate and despair inside her hearts was so great, the urge to kill so strong, so overwhelming, she doubted her father would even recognise her any more. For one brief moment, knowing it was quite possible she wasn't going to survive this, she longed to reach out for the comfort of the Doctor's mind. But the destruction of Trion still stood between them, a barrier she couldn't seem to push through, a wall she couldn't bear to breach._

_And then it was too late for any more last minute regrets, because they were bursting out of the Time Vortex, right on top of the Dalek command ship, a breathless rush of adrenaline surging through her veins. The huge saucer, filled with over five hundred Daleks, loomed ahead of them, filling the scanner screen and blotting out the stars, surrounded by a lethal network of laser fire._

"_Missile systems locked on," Timon said in his deep, steady voice. "Warp silo standing by."_

_Determined to act before the Daleks figured out what they were doing and blasted them into non-existence, Tejana did not hesitate. "FIRE!"_

_At her command, the time torpedo exploded from the warp silo, streaking towards its target at the speed of light. In the first few seconds after impact, as the three Time Lords watched anxiously, nothing seemed to happen._

Oh gods, _Tejana thought, her stomach churning wildly. So much could have gone wrong. Perhaps Jelpax hadn't managed to compromise the Daleks' shields after all. Perhaps they were too late and the breach had already regenerated. Perhaps they had calculated the trajectory incorrectly. Or perhaps they had just missed the target altogether. It hardly mattered which it was – if they had failed to incapacitate the Dalek ship, she and her team were all dead. _

_But then Timon said with quiet triumph, "Bull's eye."_

_A tiny puff of temporal energy seemed to flower on the starboard side of the enemy ship, before unfurling and expanding until the entire saucer was enveloped in a shining halo of golden light, suspended in time like a spider in amber. It was helpless and totally vulnerable, its weapons systems neutralised._

"_YES!" Tejana exclaimed, pumping the air with her fist, while Shalan threw her arms around Timon and hugged him in elation and relief._

Woo! Nice bit of shooting, that, _Drax approved in Tejana's head, as close to excitement as she had ever heard him. _Now it's my turn! Shove off outta the way, darlin', I'm comin' in!

"_Shalan, evasive manoeuvres," Tejana ordered. "The job's not done yet."_

_Returning quickly to her station, the young navigator managed to execute a short spatial hop, transporting them out of the immediate range of the Dalek ship. On the small view screen in front of her, Tejana could see the clumsy yet deadly shape of Drax's bowship as it moved in for the kill._

Well, well, well! Looks like the Cruciform's just turned up, _he commented dryly, as the Master's black, cross-shaped battle cruiser slid into view on the far edge of their scanners. _Better late than never, I s'pose. Ta very much for your help, Koschei, but this battle's already won, mate!

_With that, he fired, launching one of the mighty bolts of steel that had killed so many of the Great Vampires so long ago. The enormous projectile smashed into the defenceless Dalek command ship with a spectacular eruption of red flame. Blazing fracture lines crackled across the smooth surface of the saucer, growing and widening in a network of vermilion fire, until the enemy ship convulsed and flew apart in a dazzling explosion of light._

_Tejana was forced to shield her eyes from the glare emanating from her scanner. When she looked again, there was nothing left except a floating field of twisted debris. The Dalek ship had been completely destroyed. A savage thrill of joy flooded through her, every part of her rejoicing in the destruction and death she had helped to cause. Death to the Daleks, death to every last one of them!_

_She was left in no doubt that Drax shared her feelings, since he was laughing jubilantly in her head. _See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya, Supreme Dalek!_ he crowed in a sing-song voice. _Send me a postcard from Hell!

_Many of the other Time Lords were cheering as well, the psychic link all at once loud with celebration and congratulation, as the exhausted, hard-pressed Gallifreyan forces suddenly found new life and hope._

_But then Shalan's voice sliced across Tejana's exultation and brought her back to harsh reality. "Commander, I've lost all power. All systems unresponsive. We can't move. And the exterior friction is starting to melt the outer plasmic shell."_

_Realising that the extensive damage meant they were fast running out of time, Tejana focused her mind once more. _Drax, we're going to need some help here. We've had a massive systems failure – we're stranded.

No problemo, _he replied jauntily. _ I'll just...holy moly, what in the sweet name of Rassilon is THAT?

What?_ she demanded, alarmed by the unprecedented shock in his tone._

"_Commander, on the view screen!" Timon cut in._

_Glancing up at the main, circular screen, Tejana could see a series of small, mottled spots appearing all around them, blistering across the darkness of space, erupting in between the Time Lord ships like an outbreak of leprosy. For a second, she was tempted to rub at her eyes, to see if the fault lay in her vision. But then she realised that space itself was buckling, tiny pustules bulging in the fabric of the continuum, as though something sharp was pushing through from the other side._

"_What are they?" Shalan breathed, as they watched the strange, vile-looking tumours growing bigger and bigger, until they were larger than most of the ships in the fleet._

_Tejana just shook her head blankly. "I have no idea. Some kind of inter-dimensional worm hole?"_

_Just as she spoke, the first of the grossly swelling cysts began to split open, and long glossy black feelers began to emerge, searching around inquisitively, as though trying to sense their prey. Then what looked like a horde of monstrous, nightmarish centipedes began to pull themselves out of the cracks they had made, dragging their many-legged, segmented bodies through like maggots oozing from an over-ripe fruit. As soon as the first-comers were free, they lunged towards the nearest Gallifreyan ships and viciously attacked them, coiling around them with crushing force and stabbing at them with gigantic pincers. The Time Lords inside had no chance at all, perishing in a fiery conflagration of temporal energy as their ships disintegrated around them in a matter of seconds._

Oh gods,_ Tejana thought to herself, watching the wholesale destruction in frozen horror. _It's like the Nightmare Child all over again!

Yeah, _Drax responded curtly, picking up on her thought. _Except these things ain't on our side!

_Sure enough, the only ships being destroyed by the metameric invaders were part of the Gallifreyan fleet. The battle-TARDISes were agile enough to escape, but the slower, more bulky command-ships, black-hole carriers and bowships could not manoeuvre quickly enough to get away. The Dalek ships remained untouched, zooming back out of range to hover and watch their Time Lord enemies being exterminated one by one. _

_Before either Tejana or Drax could react, one of the hideous bulges began to swell in their sector, expanding like a pus-filled boil. Seeing the waving feelers beginning to break through, Shalan screamed in terror._

Get out, Drax! _ Tejana told him, staring in sick fascination at the giant centipede writhing towards them through the dimensional wormhole. _Go now, while you can!

I ain't leavin' you 'ere with that thing,_ he protested, stubbornly swinging the bowship back around to shield the drifting battle-TARDIS as he spoke. _There 'as to be somethin' I can do!

You have to go! We still can't move. There's no point in all of us getting killed!

_But Drax's impulsive moment of chivalry was already fatal. The alien creature twisted around, twitched its feelers and then reared back, before flinging itself forward and attaching itself inextricably to the outer skin of the bowship, its multitude of legs sinking deeply through the protective shields. Almost immediately, Drax's ship began to glow with temporal energy, shimmering beneath the grisly parasite wound so firmly around it._

Drax?_ Tejana called desperately. _No, Drax!

Goodbye, Tejana, _came his calm, resigned voice, using her actual name for the first time she could ever remember. _Bin a pleasure servin' with ya, luv.

_Then the bowship exploded, became a flash of light and disappeared, leaving Tejana staring at an empty screen in disbelief._

"_Drax!" she screamed, real anguish finally breaking through her ice cocoon and shattering it._

_But before she could even begin to take in the devastating fact that he was dead, a gout of flame burst from the time rotor of the battle-TARDIS, the damage done by the Daleks finally taking its toll. Tejana took the brunt of the blast, fire crawling over her skin, searing and blackening her flesh, her hair smouldering and burning. She fell to her knees, screaming, the pain unlike anything she had ever felt before. She couldn't see Shalan or Timon any more, the entire console room suddenly enveloped in a raging inferno._

_The last thing she saw was the open worm-hole on the scanner, its mouth yawning wide into another dimension, as the burning TARDIS was drawn towards it and was consumed._

* * *

><p>Tejana's head was hurting – hurting so much. She could still feel the flames charring her flesh, hearing evil laughter echoing in her head as the <em>Cruciform<em> took the memory of her searing agony and made it real all over again.

Kelios held her close to him, their gazes still locked together. To her utter disgust, she felt his body hardening against hers and realised he was becoming aroused as he enjoyed her pain, his eyes glittering greedily. A phrase Owen had once used bounced around in her tortured mind – "one sick puppy". That was a perfect description of Kelios, she thought vaguely. One sick puppy.

Then, to her absolute horror, she felt the Master responding to her pain and revulsion, his venom-hazed mind reaching blindly out to link with hers. Before she could shut him out, the _Cruciform_ sensed him too, surging forward like a huge beast released from a leash, loping along the pathways of her mind, running faster and faster, using her consciousness as a bridge to hunt him down.


	25. Chapter 25

**_Author's Note: Hello again! Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, taking me to over 500 reviews yet again, you all helped me smile during a very difficult week. So, big hugs to: MayFairy, Catelly, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, SawManiac211, xxTeam-Masterxx, OhTex, Lexy Summers, GuesssWho, Aietradaea (x 2), irishartemis, Geraldine (x 2), dryu, Imorgen, Bernice-Summerfield, Lost Moon, xcrazyangelx1800 and KlinicallyInsaneKoschei (x 2)._**

**_Congratulations to Aietradaea, who won the 500 review kiriban for this one - looks like there will be some Davros fic coming from me in the New Year, so stay tuned for that one! (Spoiler: Tejana and the Master break up and she begins to find herself strangely attracted to Davros...OK, now I'm just kidding, you'll have to wait and see!)_**

** _OK, the good news is that this chapter got unexpectedly finished before Christmas. The bad news is that my internal critic, who normally lives very loudly in my head, is still very much 'out to lunch' with everything else I have going on, so I have no idea whether this chapter is good or bad. So all I can say is, fingers crossed, and I hope you enjoy..._**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE<strong>

The Master had managed to drag himself on to his horse, determinedly using the Gallifreyan sixth sense to pursue Tejana's meta-physical trail. He was still sick and disoriented, but longer periods of clarity had begun to appear between the bright white flashes of memory, exploding like phosphorescent grenades in his brain. The venom in his system was confusing things, his mind was too hazy. He couldn't seem to connect properly with Tejana, not enough to speak directly to her. For a long time, as he rode slumped over the neck of his horse, all he could feel from her mind was anger, a constant red mist that seeped through the psychic link towards him. But then came waves of pain and disgust - so strong, so powerful - wrenching at him so intensely, as though the feelings were his own. Tejana's shielding was usually impenetrable...for him to be receiving this much uncontrolled emotion from her, something had to be very, very wrong. He felt her mind trying to twist away from him, wriggling like a fish on a hook.

Grimly, without the need for conscious thought, he automatically held on to her even more tightly, Hart's last words to him ringing in his ears: _If I were you, I'd choose to follow her as quickly as possible, before something bad happens._

Sibilant whispering seemed to swell in the air around him as he urged his horse to a faster gallop, his own rage building and building as he shared more of her pain.

Something bad was going to happen, all right. He was going to make sure of it.

* * *

><p><em>Pad...pad...pad...<em>

Tejana could feel the great shadow-beast coming, surging through her head, sleek and muscled and deadly, gathering more speed with every second that passed. The sensation wasn't imaginary or dream-like, it was physical and real. She could literally feel the giant paws leaping along the pathways of her consciousness, the hot breath slavering in and out as it ran, the sheer hunger radiating from its body as it raced eagerly for the place where the Master's mind joined with hers. The _Cruciform_ had scented its prey and it wanted him – it wanted him so badly – and after waiting for so long, it would not be deterred.

She tried to pull free from the Master, but he didn't seem to realise his danger and he refused to let her go. In desperation, she did the only thing she could. Replicating the Doctor's defensive strategy against Rassilon on the Isle of Avalon, she threw up a brick wall in her mind, completely blocking the mental path the shadow-creature was running along, abruptly cutting off its access to the Master. The beast hurled itself at the barrier, slashing at it with tooth and claw, screaming in rage and frustration. On the outside, lying in Kelios's arms, Tejana screamed too, feeling the lacerating agony tear across her consciousness, blood running red down the bricks of the wall.

Kelios tightened his embrace, not in comfort, but in an attempt to bring her pain-wracked body closer to him, to take pleasure in her every scream. Tejana shuddered violently under his touch. She had known a lot of monsters in her life – travelling with the Doctor, it was an occupational hazard – but she had never seen an expression so evil on anyone's face before. It wasn't lust or any other form of recognisable sexual desire, it was something much more twisted. He looked at her as though he wanted to lick her skin, to physically taste every last drop of her fear and agony, like a child savouring the sweet stickiness of a lollipop. Her back arched as the power of the _Cruciform_ convulsed through her again, still trying to tear down her wall, unrelenting in its efforts to reach the Master.

"You may as well give up, Lady Tejana," Kelios crooned softly, rocking her back and forth like a child. "His time has run out. He belongs to the _Cruciform_. Now that the Doctor's psychic barriers are gone, sooner or later, it will take him. You can't protect him forever."

Tejana clenched her teeth in determination. "Just...watch...me!" she snarled up at him, hating his arms around her. The pressure inside her head was mounting unbearably; a trickle of blood ran steadily from her nose. Reaching deep within herself, she found the cold, still place that had sustained her all through the Time War, the place that turned everything to hard, obdurate, unforgiving stone, the place that refused to allow her to give up, no matter what the cost. The only difference now was that she was using it to save something she loved, rather than to destroy something she hated.

Holding her head against his shoulder, Kelios watched her face with clinical curiosity, a small frown of puzzlement creasing his brow. "Why are you even bothering to fight?" he asked. "He may be your lover, but I have shown you the truth – the wealth of darkness, the endless depravity that lurks inside his mind. Why do you try so hard to save him?"

Despite her desperate internal struggle, Tejana gave a small, choked, defiant laugh. "You don't really think you changed anything by telling me all that stuff about the Time War, do you? Were you expecting to _shock_ me? I've always known _exactly_ what he is, from the very beginning. You may have managed to separate us once before, but if you want to do it again, you're going to need to do a whole lot better than that."

Cold, interested amusement shone in his dark eyes. "There's an old Gallifreyan saying, perhaps you've heard of it," he said. "'Look not too long into the abyss, lest you find at the bottom an inexpressible charm to attract you'. Can it be that the Doctor's daughter has stood too long on the edge looking down?" Slowly, insinuatingly, he stroked his fingers across the softness of her lower lip. "Have you begun to love the darkness, Lady Tejana?"

As if energised by his words, the _Cruciform_ surged once more inside her head, the accompanying pain wrenching through her slender body and bathing her in sweat.

"I don't deny that I have a dark side. Denying that would just be denying half of who I am," she gritted out, still steadfastly holding on to the wall in her mind. "I don't expect you to ever understand this, but I love _him_. And when you love someone, _truly_ love someone, you need to love the whole person, not just their light, but everything they are, including their darkness and pain and sorrow."

"Love!" Kelios scoffed, angry now, all the amusement in his face vanishing at her words. "What is there to understand about _love_? It doesn't exist. My father told my mother he loved her, until it no longer suited him and he cast her, and me, aside like so much garbage. And after his grand society match with Koschei's mother, how many other women do you think he secretly took to rut with in his bed? Was that _love_? Love is nothing but an illusion and a lie, an excuse people use to manipulate others into doing whatever they want!"

Tejana stared up at his handsome face, contorted in bitterness. For just a few fleeting seconds, under the stolen mask of youth, she could see traces of the lonely, mixed-up boy he had been so long ago - rejected by his aristocratic father for reasons he could never understand or change; his developing mind poisoned and corrupted by his resentful, jealous mother; shunned and condemned as a half-breed and a bastard by the rigid, unforgiving standards of Gallifreyan society. So much importance and reverence had been placed on childbirth and lineage on Gallifrey – to be an unacknowledged child, neither fully Time Lord or Shabogan, was the ultimate degradation. Tejana could hardly even begin to imagine the humiliation Kelios must have experienced while growing up.

_Oh gods, _she thought_, how much of a mess we can unwittingly cause with the choices we make._

The Master had never once mentioned his father to her. She had gathered early on in their relationship that it was a taboo subject with him. But she had been in his mind often enough by now to put together a fragmentary picture of the man from his reluctant memories. Cold, arrogant, autocratic, selfish, bombastic, never satisfied with anything less than perfection; Lord Oakdown had ridden the young Koschei mercilessly during his time at the Academy, always pushing for more and more and more. His son was the heir of Oakdown, he had to be the best at everything – the best at academics, the best at sports, the best at anything he tried, because anything less was not acceptable to his father and brought shame to his House. If Koschei brought home an excellent mark in his exams, Lord Oakdown would always ask why it wasn't better. If he won a race by running a personal best time, Lord Oakdown demanded to know why he hadn't run faster. And the disheartened boy would always return to the Academy bitterly resolving to improve, to be better, to dominate every other student, to finally please his overbearing father.

The only thing in which Koschei had ever disobeyed his father in those early years was his friendship with Theta Sigma. Despite the undisputed nobility of the House of Lungbarrow, in Lord Oakdown's eyes, Theta did not have enough standing within his own House to merit close friendship with the heir of Oakdown. And he was odd...different. People _talked_ about him and not in a good way. There was nothing about him that could help Koschei in his future political career and therefore his friendship had no value and was only a hindrance. But, ignoring his father's orders for once, Koschei had clung to his friendship with Theta like a lifeline, refusing to abandon him. Tejana wasn't sure if the Doctor had ever fully understood how much courage it had taken for the young Master to defy his father, just how much he had relied on their closeness to cancel out the increasing torment of the drums in his head. Surely,_ surely_, if he had, he would never have left his friend behind when he had run away from Gallifrey.

There had been a time, when he was very young, when he was still desperate for help, when Koschei had tried to tell his father about the terrifying noise in his head, pushing him closer and closer to insanity every day. Typically, Lord Oakdown had been horrified that his son might have something wrong with him, something which would make the House of Oakdown appear less than perfect in the critical eyes of Gallifreyan society. Acting as quickly and decisively as always, he had beaten Koschei and locked him in his room for a week, telling him that he was never to raise the subject again. And Koschei never had – instead he had learned to hide the drums behind an emotionless face, pretending they didn't exist, speaking of them to no-one, even his best friend Theta, even when the pain of the incessant pounding threatened to rip his mind into tiny shreds.

Centuries later, looking up at the hatred in Kelios's face, Theta's daughter realised for the first time that Lord Oakdown, besides being an A-grade asshole, had also been a hypocrite of the worst kind, expecting absolute perfection from those around him, while secretly indulging and wallowing in every one of his own hedonistic lusts and desires. Because of him, Kelios had become a monster, driven by hurt and rage and the need for revenge, yearning to destroy everything he held responsible for his overwhelming pain. And how terribly had it affected Koschei, that devastating day in Low Town, to realise that the man he had striven to please all his life was nothing but a dishonourable, two-faced liar? Was that the day the Master was truly born? Both of Lord Oakdown's sons, their lives warped and twisted and destroyed by his uncaring, selfish actions, each of them set at his brother's throat, with the Universe left to pay the ultimate price.

_Is it always this way?_ Tejana wondered, thinking of her own miserable, fatherless upbringing. _Do parents always screw up the lives of their children without even realising it? No, I'm not going to __let it happen that way for my child. If we get out of here alive, I swear before all the gods, Koschei and I won't make the same mistakes with our son. I swear it!_

She held on to the silent promise, fiercely drawing strength from it, all her fears and doubts over the child she was carrying suddenly melting away. They were going to be a family, the three of them, a _real _family, like she and the Master had never had before. Nothing could be allowed to get in the way of that, not Kelios, not the _Cruciform_, nothing.

"Love exists," she said stubbornly, reaffirming it aloud to herself, knowing that it was one emotion the _Cruciform_ couldn't pollute or contaminate. "Perhaps it's rare, but it's real."

"If it does exist, then it is nothing but a _weakness_!" Kelios spat.

As he spoke, Tejana could feel the Master pushing from the other side of her mental barrier, adding to the terrible pressure in her head, intent on forcing his way through. She couldn't tell if he was still trying to reach her or if he had heard and succumbed to the deadly call of the _Cruciform. _

_Oh don't, Koschei, please, don't!_

Sensing him close by, the great shadow-beast chose that moment to renew its assault on her wall with increased savagery and then she was drowning in the pain. Lost in the waves of agony, slowly losing the battle, she could suddenly hear Ianto's lilting Welsh voice, giving the reading at Rhys and Gwen's wedding, believing in every word he said, his entire heart in his eyes as they had rested on Jack sitting in the audience.

_Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing more pleasant, nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth._

"Love gives all for all," she whispered haltingly, saying the beautiful, poignant words along with the ghost of her dead friend, their voices twining together in her head as the _Cruciform_ screamed in rage and rejection. "It knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails."

With the combined pressure of the energies battering at it from both sides, the wall was beginning to crumble and the _Cruciform_ was laughing and laughing and laughing, anticipating victory at any moment. Horror gripped her soul, because with every second that passed, the insistent, vile, whispering voice inside her head was becoming more and more familiar. A voice that she heard every day. A voice that she loved. _The Master's voice_.

_Anaaaaaa..._

Kelios glared down at her. "We will see which is stronger once my brother gets here – your love or my hate," he said contemptuously. "Because that's when I'm going to hurt him like he's never been hurt before." With a sinister smile, he lowered his lips to the vulnerable place on her throat where her pulse beat and fluttered, and she felt his sharp, white teeth grazing over her soft skin. "Won't that be fun, little Time Lady?"

Knowing there was only one thing left that she could do to save the man she loved, she brutally cut the psychic link altogether and threw herself into an endless well of unconsciousness, abandoning her body to its fate and taking refuge in a deep, black coma where nothing could reach or touch her.

* * *

><p>First, there was a brick wall, cutting her off from him, blocking his path into her mind. He knew immediately that the interference wasn't external. That towering pile of red bricks was too familiar, too similar to the mental defences the Doctor had used against Rassilon on the Isle of Avalon. This was Tejana herself, trying to keep him out. Someone was attempting to separate them, to take her from him, to turn her against him. No...he was her <em>Master<em>...he would never allow it. He pushed back even harder, determined to smash his way through to her, refusing to give up.

But then she was gone altogether, her consciousness disappearing, winking out like a dying star. The brick wall crumbled and fell around him, but there was nothing behind it, just empty echoing space. Blinding white light seared through his head, like a storm of razor blades, as yet another of the Doctor's protective barriers succumbed to the lamia's venom.

_His darkness wanted freedom._

_Trapped inside the thought bubble, he could feel it pacing restlessly in his mind, like a tiger in a cage. Raised and empowered by the Cruciform, it no longer wanted to be tied to him, subject to his will, as it had been for centuries. It no longer wanted him to be its master. Every time the Cruciform called upon it, delving deeper and deeper into the shadows of his mind to produce some new horror to fight in the Time War, it grew stronger and more vengeful. It pulled upon the chains imposed upon it by the Cruciform, striving against the control of Kelios's technology, struggling for release. It wanted to be independent, separate...real. And then it would consume the Universe with its hunger._

_Little by little, the Master was being unravelled; every layer of self, built up over the centuries, now peeled away like an onion, stripping him bare, until at last the Cruciform probed right down to the very core of him, reaching the dark secret things he had hidden away, even from himself, truths he had never wanted to face or admit._

Your father_, the black voice breathed. _Think of your father.

_Hate. Blinding. Implacable. Relentless._

_And the pain. Crushing. Suffocating. Obliterating._

_The beating of the drums, on and on and on, without comfort or ease or end._

_So long since he had allowed himself to see that loathsome face, so long since he had heard that icy, uncaring voice: _You are dead to me, Koschei. I no longer have a son.

_The thought bubble pulsed blood-red around him, breaking down his barriers, making him see what he didn't want to see. All his life, he had locked it away, pretending it didn't exist, refusing to acknowledge that the man who had ruled his life as a child had anything to do with who he had become as an adult. Refusing to accept that no matter how many people he hurt as the Master, no matter how many he murdered, it would never, ever be enough, because he had never killed the one man that mattered, the one he wanted to destroy above all others._

What do you want?_ the Cruciform whispered, reaching down into his soul to find his deepest, darkest, most secret and murderous desire of all. _Tell me what you really want...

_What did he want? What did he WANT? He wanted to win. He wanted to dominate. He wanted to rule the Universe, right down to the very last atom. And when he had done that, when there was nothing left to take, nothing left to own, he wanted...oh, he _wanted._..just one redeeming moment in time when his father would be forced to kneel before him, totally at his mercy. Just one shining, glorious moment where he had the chance to release the painful scream that had been festering inside him all his life._

Am I good enough for you now, father? Am I finally, FINALLY good enough?

_And then, what he most desired, before at long last he killed his father, was to look into those cold eyes so like his own and to see naked fear instead of careless contempt, to hear his chosen name fall subserviently from those trembling lips: _ Master.

_Oh yes, THAT was what he wanted, what he had _always _wanted. _

_Just that one perfectly crystallised moment of death and revenge. _

_And the Cruciform sighed in ecstatic satiation, feeding on his rage and hate, taking his ultimate, most secret darkness and forging it into something new, something terrible._

_A small gleaming sphere, blacker than the night, a weapon filled with unending power and destruction, able to remove millions and millions from time and space in the blink of an eye._

_The Master's one shining Moment._

_'The Moment' that would change the history of the Universe forever._

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><p>Slowly, very slowly, Tejana swam back out of the formless void, surfacing into reality. She had no idea where she was. She was lying on something very hard and she was cold and so stiff that even her bruises seemed to have bruises. But, for now, her physical well-being was unimportant enough that she hardly even registered the discomfort. What really mattered was that her head was her own again, with no trace of the horrible whispering voice that had begun to sound terrifyingly more and more like the Master.<p>

She had a piercing memory of the_ Cruciform _snatching at her mind and missing, snarling in fury as she unexpectedly slipped into the sanctuary of the suspension trance, temporarily switching off both her mind and her body. All Time Lords had the ability to shut themselves down into a death-like trance when required – it was often used as a healing device, allowing time to recover from grievous injury. The main drawback was that it could not be maintained for too long without becoming permanent. And, of course, there was always the problem that everyone around you tended to think you were dead, which could lead to added complications.

Kelios, however, while not a Time Lord, was Gallifreyan – he would have known immediately what she had done and why she had done it. And although she had succeeded in cancelling out the psychic link and rendering herself useless to the _Cruciform_ as a bridge to the Master's mind, her unattended body had been left vulnerable and completely at the Shabogan's mercy as long as the trance had lasted. She had no way of knowing what might have happened in that time. Gingerly, she gave herself a quick once-over, trying to determine whether Kelios had vented his anger on her in any way while she was unconscious. From what she had seen, he was sick enough to do anything – there was not much she would have put past him. But, to her immense relief, apart from the superficial injuries she already knew about, nothing seemed to have changed.

Suddenly, she realised she was not alone. Her eyes flew open, but it didn't help, since she simply exchanged one darkness for another, her surroundings as black as pitch.

"It's a female," a man's voice said, close to her ear. "But she's very small. I think it's a child!"

"A child! In this hell hole?" another deep male voice muttered, one which she thought she had heard before, but couldn't immediately place. "Is she alive?"

Hands fumbled over the front of her thin tunic in the dark, apparently trying to locate her heartbeat, brushing clumsily over her small but very distinctive breasts in the process.

"Hey!" she snapped, stiffening in anger, sick to death of being touched against her will. "Back off, buddy."

The groping hands retreated. "A female, yes. Alive, yes," the first voice said dryly. "But definitely not a child."

"That's right, I'm not," she agreed, sitting up with a jerk. "And you can keep your hands to yourself, if you don't mind, whoever you are."

"Tejana?" the second voice demanded in a startled tone. "Is that you?"

This time, she was able to recognise the speaker. "Brandon?"

"Yes, it's me." In the darkness, she felt his warm hand gently grazing her cheek, as if he was trying to confirm it was really her. "What in the name of the Ruach are you doing here? I thought you would have been sold to one of the Keep Lords by now."

Reaching up, she wrapped her fingers tightly around his and held on. "It's kind of a long story. Where exactly are we?"

"The dungeons under the Temple of the Pythia," he answered flatly.

"I should have guessed that, I suppose," she sighed. Kelios needed the pain of others to enjoy himself. In her trance, she had been no use to him, just as she had been no use to the _Cruciform_. So she had been packed away in cold storage until the Master arrived and the real fun could begin. Feeling even more chilled at the thought, she wondered where the other Time Lord was. Now that she had closed down the psychic link, she had no way of knowing, and she didn't dare to re-open it again. She had no doubt that he was coming for her and she couldn't stop him. She had managed to delay his inevitable encounter with the _Cruciform_ but that was all. _Oh gods, Koschei, I love you, please stay safe!_

"Why are you here, Brandon? What happened?"

She felt him shrug. "When the Lordsman Silas discovered we had hidden you from him in our home, and that the Slave-takers had captured you, he was very angry. As revenge, he saw to it that my name and Corin's were added to the list of men to be taken for the Gift," he explained. "We were arrested and brought here the next day."

"And Mother Hulde? What happened to her?"

Brandon paused for a few seconds and she felt his fingers tremble in hers. His breath caught, almost as if he was suppressing a sob. Then he said, "My grandmother's dead." His voice was heavy with grief. "She was very old. Her heart gave out, after the fight with the Slave-takers."

Guilt sliced through Tejana like a knife. Yet another death that could be laid to her account, merely because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mother Hulde had been gentle and kind. Why was it that wherever the Time Lords went, ordinary people – _good_ people - tended to die? Why were there always some that they just couldn't save?

"I'm so sorry, Brandon," she murmured brokenly. "It was my fault. We should never have come here."

"You had no choice. It was destined, written in the stars long before any of us were born," Brandon answered solemnly. "My grandmother believed in the prophecy of the Ruach. She died as she would have wished, upholding the light of the Universe against the encroaching darkness."

Tears prickled in Tejana's eyes at the love and respect and sorrow she heard in his voice. It was obvious that Mother Hulde had been the heart of his family. The old lady's loss was going to be a devastating blow to them. Then, all at once, another bad thought struck her, an icy shiver creeping insistently up her back. Brandon had said that Corin had also been taken for the Gift. There were other men all around them in the blackness of the dungeon – she could hear their small, shuffling movements; smell their acrid sweat and their pervasive fear. But if lively, mischievous Corin had been one of them, he surely would have spoken up by now.

"Brandon, where's Corin?" she asked urgently. "You said he was brought here with you."

"He was," Brandon replied. "But then he was taken away by those strange creatures, to serve the Pythia."

Tejana felt the blood drain from her face. "When was he taken?"

"It's hard to measure the passing of time in this black hole, but I think it was around two days ago. He has not returned to us since then."

Sickness rose in her throat as she remembered the swirling dark clouds on the horizon at dawn two days ago. _Corin, laughing, dark-eyed Corin, who had flirted with her and teased her like a younger brother...oh gods, no!_ For a terrible, eviscerating moment, she could hardly breathe, a small suffocated moan forcing its way between her lips as she imagined the horror and agony the boy must have gone through, kneeling helplessly as Kelios drained every last drop of bio-energy from him, leaving nothing but an arid, lifeless husk.

"Tejana? What is it?" Brandon demanded, his hand gripping hers almost painfully. "Do you know what has happened to my brother?"

She couldn't answer him. What could she say? How could she tell him that Corin was dead too, that he was alone, the only one left from his once-loving family?

"Tejana!" he insisted, giving her a small shake. "Please! I need to know."

"He's dead, Brandon," she whispered, unable to break it to him any more gently. "The Dark Lord...he steals the life-energy of the men he takes for the Gift. I'm so sorry."

A ripple of horror ran through the listening men in the endless night of the dungeon, as they all suddenly understood what was in store for them. Brandon seemed to have frozen in grief and shock at the news of his brother's fate, the breath forced from his lungs in one, long, tortured exhalation. Feeling for him in the dark, Tejana put her arms around him and held him close, not knowing how to comfort him. There was just no way she could make this any better.

"We have to get out of here!" said the voice of the man who had spoken first, his voice jagged with incipient panic. "Before we all end up dead too!"

"Great idea, Matthias," one of his companions replied sarcastically. "And just how do you suggest we do that? In case you hadn't noticed, we're locked in a dungeon in the dark."

"Ah, you never know, perhaps I could help with that," another voice chimed in, rich with amusement. "Provided we could come to some sort of arrangement, of course." A bright light flared unexpectedly in the blackness, eerily illuminating a grinning face that seemed to float nearby in mid-air, like some sort of childish Halloween lantern.

"Hello again, Princess."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Another Author's Note: Well, there it is - any feedback much, MUCH appreciated. Next chapter will see the Master finally arriving at the Temple, so the big show down with Kelios is gonna happen. Also, Eight will be making an appearance in flashback form<em>,_ in case anyone was wondering about the Doctor's part in all this. Hopefully, those little teasers will make you want to rejoin my 'Ship of Dreams' after Christmas._ _Hope you all have a lovely, safe merry time with your family and friends :)_**


	26. Chapter 26

_**Author's Note: Thanks to the following people for reviewing the previous chapter – MayFairy, Darkened Eternity, SawManiac211, Theta'sWorstNightmare, xxTeam-Masterxx, Lexy Summers, mericat, Aietradaea, Geraldine, MountainLord-92, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Dryu, AnimalFeelings, Imorgen, Lost Moon, OhTex, Kimamoondog, Ahsilaa and EDZEL2. **_

_**Yeah, long time between updates, I know – but that's life. **_

_**And, I know I promised the brotherly showdown in this chapter, but I decided I needed to sort out some other stuff first to set it all up properly, so that will probably be next chapter now. Sorry about that, but you can blame Captain John Hart for sort of taking the chapter over :P**_

_**Also, just so you know, I am due in hospital again shortly. If I get enough feedback on this chapter, I promise I will endeavour to finish another chapter before I go in. Since I've virtually had to cut this chapter off to stop it being too long, I have all the ideas buzzing around in my head, just waiting to be written out. However, if all the "wheat stalkers" just read and don't bother to review, I won't worry about doing it, since I have a mountain of other things to do. Just sayin'.**_

**_Hope you all enjoy...  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY SIX<strong>

"_You!_" Brandon snarled as he leapt to his feet, his deep voice ragged and unrecognisable with fury and hatred. "You bastard! You filthy, murdering piece of kraken shit! I'm going to kill you!"

Peering at the faint, eldritch glow of light, Tejana was just able to make out the familiar, arrogant outline of a figure in a red hussar's jacket, standing on the other side of the wall of heavy iron bars that formed their prison. With a spurt of rage, she realised it was Hart and he was holding his Time Agent wrist-strap high, a soft light emanating from it and surrounding him, like an angelic halo he most certainly didn't deserve.

"Yeah," she said, agreeing coldly with Brandon. "What he said."

While she refused to allow it to show on her face, inwardly she was completely astonished that Hart was still here. She had expected him to be long gone by now, taking advantage of his newly-revamped vortex manipulator to disappear to greener pastures. If anyone had asked her, she would have guessed he was propping up a bar somewhere on a distant planet, ogling the passing talent, not still skulking in the hidden depths of the_ Cruciform_. What the hell was he up to now?

Hart laughed, the rich, cheerful sound almost surrealistic as it echoed around the dim, dank prison cell. "Now, now, is that any way to treat the man who's come to save you, Princess?" he asked, stepping closer to the bars. "If, of course, you're willing to pay my price."

She gritted her teeth, determined to keep her anger in check, afraid that the _Cruciform _would sense the negative emotion and seize hold of it again in an attempt to manipulate her. But nothing stirred in the still pool of her mind. It was as if the _Cruciform_ had never been there at all. Instead of feeling relieved, she felt her anxiety escalating. If the ship's vile consciousness had let her go, it could only be because it was concentrating on something...or _someone_...else. And who else could that someone be but the Master? If he was not already here, he must be very, very close. All hell was about to break loose and, locked here in this dungeon, she had no way of helping the man she loved. As things stood, she couldn't afford to shun help from any quarter, even from someone she despised as much as Captain John Hart.

"And what is your price, Hart?" she snarled, almost afraid to ask. "You can see I've got nothing left to give. What could you possibly want from me?"

"Well now," he said, a leer in his voice as he rotated his wrist and played the light up and down her small, slender body. "Let me think_ hard _about that. I'm guessing there's not much you wouldn't do to save Blondie, now is there, sweetheart? I'm sure we can reach some sort of...agreement."

Tejana stiffened and raised her chin proudly, knowing he was right, even as she felt his eyes roving lustfully over her, virtually stripping her naked. If sex was truly his price, then to save the Master, she would pay it, no matter how much she shrank from the idea.

"I'll do whatever it takes," she said, meaning every quiet word.

"No, Tejana!" Brandon objected furiously, putting a restraining hand on her shoulder. "You can't give yourself to him! You don't know what you're saying."

"Aw, relax, soldier," Hart smirked, shining the light directly into Brandon's eyes, so that the other man was forced to raise his arm over his face, to prevent himself being blinded. "It's a nice thought, and I wouldn't say no, but that's not what I'm asking for."

"What then?" Tejana snapped. "I don't have time for your games, Hart. What do I have that you want?"

For a few seconds, Hart paused. Then he said, "Jack."

"_What?_"

"You heard me. I want another chance with Jack."

Tejana shook her head in bewilderment. "How am I supposed to give you that? I don't control what Jack does."

"No, but he trusts you and he listens to you. I need you to convince him that I'm willing to change, that if we were together, I could be anything he wanted me to be. I want you to tell him that I had the chance to abandon you here, but I didn't – I came back to save you, just like he would have done, if he was here."

Tejana could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was this really why he hadn't left when he had the chance? To prove something to_ Jack_? Back in the cave, when Hart had told her he still loved Jack, that he regretted their parting, she had assumed he he was merely winding her up, lying to her face, just as he had about so many other things. But, listening to him now, she could sense something else in his voice - something deep and intense and loaded with dark emotion – something that told her that he was perfectly serious. As unbelievable as it seemed, this request was vitally important to him.

"So, let me get this straight," she said in confusion. "You want me to promise to put in a good word with Jack for you and you'll get me out of here, so that I can help the Master. That's it? That's _all_? The whole deal?"

"That's my price," he replied, his tone suddenly light and mocking again, concealing his pain with his usual cocky arrogance, as if he couldn't care less what her answer would be. "Take it or leave it, Princess."

Tejana hesitated, hurriedly thinking it through, searching for the catch. Considering how she had left things between her and Jack, getting involved in his love life in any capacity was the last thing she wanted to do. And even though she wanted her friend to find someone who could make him happy, Captain John Hart was hardly her preferred candidate. On the other hand, Jack was a big boy and was more than capable of looking after himself. If this small thing was all that Hart wanted to set her free to help the Master, then so be it. She took a deep breath, before answering, "Very well. You have my word as a Time Lady that I will tell Jack the truth of everything that happened here."

She saw his teeth flash in the dim light as he gave her a wry grin, knowing quite well that she was intentionally being very specific in what she was agreeing to do, choosing her words with lawyer-like care.

"Still so protective of him," he said softly, an undercurrent of bitter challenge flowing beneath his words. "Even though you chose another man over him. Even though you left him behind."

"What I feel for him is none of your business and has nothing to do with this!" Tejana flared defensively, his comment flicking her on the raw for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely. "The point is, I don't trust you, Hart, not as far as I could throw you. Jack's still my best friend and he's been through more than enough already."

He shrugged, the gesture placating and almost weary. "You needn't worry, sweetheart. Just for once, the truth is all I need. I don't want anything else from you."

"Fine. Then we have a deal?"

Instead of answering, he lowered his wrist-strap to the heavy lock on the door. A high-pitched noise shrilled through the air and the tumblers turned with an audible clunk. Reaching out, Hart gave the door a sharp push and it swung wide with a spine-shuddering, unoiled screech.

Tejana climbed unsteadily to her feet and faced him. "Brandon and the others come too," she said flatly. "I'm not leaving them in here."

"Whatever you want, Princess," Hart shrugged again, apparently not bothered one way or the other. "It's all the same to me."

"Wait!" Brandon exclaimed urgently, grasping Tejana's arm and holding her back. "This bastard is the reason my grandmother died. He and his men took you from my home by force. What if this is some sort of trick? You said yourself you can't trust him."

Tejana slid her hand up to his face and gently cupped his cheek. "It doesn't matter, Brandon. I have no choice, I have to do this, otherwise someone I love very much may die. Kelios...the Dark Lord...has to be stopped, you must understand that."

"She's right, Brandon!" Matthias chimed in. "We can't just sit huddled in here like frightened mice, waiting to be picked off one by one, like your brother."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the others. Now that she had the dim light to see by, Tejana realised there were about twenty men clustered in the shadows of the dungeon. Under her hand, she felt Brandon's features tighten with pain and anger as he thought of the terrible way Corin had been murdered. "What are you planning to do, Tejana?"

She sighed, wondering how best to explain it to someone who could not even comprehend space travel, let alone imagine the greatest and most terrible war the Universe had ever seen. "This...temple...is evil, Brandon. There's something at the heart of it that's extremely dangerous. It's called psychic pollen and it can manipulate people's minds, even when it's relatively dormant, as it is at the moment. I think, just by its presence here, it's contaminated the air of your planet over the centuries, causing the mnemosis sickness. And now Kelios plans to awaken it still further, using the mind of my lifemate, the Master."

"The man of blood," Brandon murmured to himself, quoting the prophecy of the Ruach. "And this will bring the Time of Chaos?"

"Yes, that's what I believe. Kelios is completely insane. He wants to rule all of Creation and, if it's awakened fully, the psychic pollen will give him all the power he needs to do it. Somehow, I have to figure out a way to destroy it, before things get that far."

"Then we must come with you, to help defeat this great evil," Brandon said decisively.

Tejana shook her head. "No. I need you and your friends to go back to the villages and tell your people everything that has been happening here. You need to tell them the truth about the Gift. And you need to warn them about the Lich."

"The Lich?" he queried with a puzzled frown. "You mean those strange little transparent creatures that serve the Temple?"

"They're much more than that, Brandon," she told him seriously, thinking of what Hart had told her about the Lich, just after she had been paralysed by his poisonous lip-gloss. "They're the original inhabitants of this planet. They lived here long before the humans came and now they want it back. I think, once Kelios starts to amass his power, they'll take the opportunity to attack and slaughter the villagers. They're savage and bloodthirsty and they've been waiting a long time for vengeance. Your people have to be ready to defend themselves. And to do that, they're going to need a strong leader – a leader like you."

"But I can't let you challenge the Temple on your own!" he protested hotly, grasping her by the upper arms and giving her a little shake. "You're just a woman and a small one at that. What can you possibly do by yourself?"

Hart gave a sardonic chuckle. "I wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating her. She's not as helpless as she looks," he drawled in an amused voice. "And besides, she won't be on her own."

Tejana turned to face him, her green eyes narrowed with wariness. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm coming with you," he said calmly, unperturbed by the ice in her tone.

"Oh, really? And why would you do that?" she flung at him. "What's in it for you this time?"

"Come on now, Princess, don't be like that. Can't you believe that maybe I like you and want to help you, simple as that?"

"Not for one tiny second!"

He grinned widely. "Then let's just say I'm protecting my investment. You can't put in a good word for me with Jack if you're dead, now can you?"

Tejana glared at him. He was as slippery and unreliable as a snake in the grass and he had already betrayed her once, just when she was on the point of finally trusting him. She knew she must be mad to even consider accepting his help. But the undeniable truth was, if she could manage to keep him from double-crossing her, Hart would be a very useful ally to have in her corner. And right now, with the Master's life at risk, she was in no position to be choosy.

"Suit yourself," she growled. "But don't even_ think _about changing sides on me again, Hart. Because if you _ever _endanger the Master again, in any way, shape or form, I will make you very, very sorry. Are we clear?"

Hart stood back from the door to the cell and swept her a low, mocking bow as she moved past him into the dark corridor beyond. "Crystal clear, Princess."

* * *

><p><em>Lies. Prevarication. Deceit.<em>

It all came so easily to him now, as easily as breathing. Captain John Hart had told so many lies in his life, had woven so many intricate webs of falsehood, he wasn't sure any more that he even knew himself where the lies ended and the truth began.

He watched Tejana walking in front of him up the gloomy corridor, her copper hair spilling loosely down her back, her slender hips swinging under the short, ragged silk of her slave tunic, so very feminine and enticing.

Perhaps he had made a mistake, he mused wryly, thinking back over their conversation. Perhaps he should have followed his usual inclinations and demanded sex as his payment after all. Sex was a currency he understood, nice and straightforward and uncomplicated. Unlike trying to be a bloody hero, whatever his reasons for doing it.

Then again, having witnessed first hand the Master's violent reaction to anyone messing with his woman, sex with Tejana probably wasn't the best idea, after all.

The thing was, for once he really had been telling the truth. He _did_ like Tejana, for what it was worth. He admired and respected her, and there weren't too many women he would say that about. She was proud and feisty, she had guts and determination and she was endlessly loyal to the people she cared about - the Master, her father, Jack, even these pathetic, unimportant humans from the planet Mnemosyne following along behind them. Maybe even John himself, if he hadn't betrayed her. He could remember the feel of her arms around his neck as he dragged her free from the stampeding crowd at the carnival, the look of joy and relief on her face as she recognised him. It had been strangely satisfying, if a little unusual, for someone to be that glad to see him. Perhaps Jack had a point - perhaps this hero business had an upside after all.

But in the past, liking someone had never been a good enough reason not to betray them, not even close. He'd never allowed any kind of personal feelings to interfere with business. Anything or anyone that stood between him and his goal had just had to go. Those were the rules. All the Time Agents had understood them and had played by them, even Jack. _Especially_ Jack. In those days, he and Jack had been the same, they'd understood each other, had always known exactly what to expect from each other.

But not any more.

When he had come through the Rift and seen his old lover again, when they had kissed so passionately after fighting in the bar, he had suddenly realised just how much he'd missed the other man. The years he had spent with Jack had been the best years of his life. And he'd seen no reason why they couldn't just pick up where they had left off. He and Jack, partners and lovers, blazing a bright, shining trail across the Universe together. The possibility that Jack might not feel the same way had never even entered his head. Then, to his utter dismay, he had found out that Jack was a completely changed man. Everything he had once admired about John, everything that had once attracted him, now repelled him. He wanted different things now, things that John couldn't give him. He wanted no reminders of his old life – and that was all John was to him, just a reminder of the past, not important, not relevant, not in any way part of his future. The only thing that was important to Jack was Torchwood, his bloody _team_.

Back then, the unexpected jealousy and anger that overwhelmed him had taken John by complete surprise. He'd hated them all immediately, each and every one of them: Tejana, so self-contained and arrogant, but sharing an unknown bond with Jack that John couldn't begin to comprehend; Ianto, the handsome piece of eye candy Jack couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from; pretty, out-spoken Gwen, so possessive and protective of her boss; even quiet Tosh and cynical, sarcastic Owen, both of them looking at him like a piece of dirt they'd found on the bottom of their shoe...none of them understood that he and Jack had once _had_ something, something real, something special. Something irreplaceable.

The memory of the hurt and the rage still burnt fiercely inside him. He'd told Tejana that throwing Jack off the twenty five storey building had not been personal, but that...oh, now _that_...had been a lie. It had been about as personal as it was possible to get. In that one blinding moment of murderous fury, he'd _wanted_ to kill Jack, more than he'd ever wanted anything, to get his revenge and to erase the humiliating truth that he loved a man who didn't love him back.

Of course, at that point in time, he hadn't been aware that killing Jack just wasn't possible any more. He'd had a lot of time to think and to regret what he'd done since then, especially during the five, long, mind-numbingly boring and lonely years he had spent trapped here on Mnemosyne – time to miss Jack all over again and to wish it could have been different. He'd done his best to make it up to his ex-lover, by helping him when his brother Gray had turned up in Cardiff, intent on revenge. But by then it had been too late to redeem himself in Jack's eyes, especially with Owen and Tosh ending up dead. He'd handled it all wrong in the first place, he knew that now. He'd let his emotion, his anger and jealousy, get the better of him, instead of keeping a cool head. It was a mistake he wouldn't make again, if he ever got the chance to change things.

Now it seemed the Universe had once more handed him an opportunity on a silver platter. The logic behind his actions was simple. Tejana was precious to Jack. Therefore, if John saved her life, with no apparent benefit to himself, he figured Jack would owe him one. After that, who knew? It was a starting point, at least. A foot in the door. He knew his old partner was still attracted to him physically. All he had to do was to get Jack to swallow the unlikely idea that he had changed. And surely, with Tejana's help, however reluctant, and his own undoubted charm, that couldn't be too difficult?

He stroked his fingers over the smooth leather of his wrist-strap, a shifty grin forming on his face. The best part about his plan was that he could carry it out with absolutely no risk to himself. Thanks to his earlier deal with Kelios, his vortex manipulator was a guaranteed ticket out of here. If things on Mnemosyne got too dangerous, he could always teleport away to a different planet in the wink of an eye, leaving Tejana and the Master to sort out their own problems.

After all, he reflected with a careless shrug, even Jack wasn't worth dying for.

* * *

><p>Tejana could sense the ex-Time Agent close behind her as she walked, like an uncomfortable itch between her shoulder blades that she couldn't quite reach to scratch. But, right now, John Hart was the least of her problems, so she steadfastly ignored him. Instead, she chose to concentrate on what she was doing, tracing her hand carefully along the wall. It felt moist and vile under her touch and she couldn't help flinching at the loathsome feel of the mottled, sweaty lichen, the lumpy, pulpous fungi and the other even more unspeakable things that had flourished here in the damp humidity over the centuries. Somehow, the sensation was made even worse by the fact that she couldn't see exactly what was under her fingertips in the concealing gloom of the corridor. Fighting back a shudder, trying to preserve her own sanity, she shut out the disturbing notion that she was stroking the skin of a living, sentient creature. The compartment she was searching for had to be here somewhere. The <em>Cruciform<em> might be unique in many ways, but it was still a Gallifreyan warship, and she had been on a few of those in her time.

At last she found was she was looking for. "Here!" she exclaimed, stopping abruptly. Curiously, Hart raised his light to shine on the wall as she pressed hard on the two diagonally opposite corners of the panel she had discovered. Slowly, the hidden door slid aside, revealing a small, dark alcove.

"Service node," she explained tersely, tapping at the controls inside the small alcove, as the other men crowded around behind her, peering over her shoulder. "An access point to the ship's central computer. Looks like it's been inactive for centuries though – there's no power. Hart, do you think you can use your vortex manipulator to jump-start it for me?"

"Your wish is my command, Princess," he replied. As he spoke, he was rapidly manipulating the control panel of his wrist-strap, interfacing it with the terminal in the alcove. A dull green glow of energy shone briefly and then the lights on the service node hummed into life.

"Piece of cake," he said in smug self-satisfaction.

Tejana didn't stop to congratulate him – she was already working at the small terminal. The air in the corridor shimmered incandescently and then a large image suddenly appeared, etching itself on the darkness with bright, verdant lines of light. Brandon and his men gasped audibly, all of them taking a frantic step backwards.

"Magic!" Matthias croaked.

"Not magic, technology," Tejana corrected, leaning forward to gaze at the holographic image as it rotated gently before her. "This is a ship's schematic, used for maintenance purposes."

"Ship?" Brandon asked bewilderedly, latching on to the only word he understood.

Tejana sighed. She really didn't have time for all these explanations. "This building you call a temple...it's actually a huge ship, designed to travel in time and space. It was built by my people, the Gallifreyans, to fight a great war long ago."

"Travelling in space?" Matthias scoffed. "You must be mad, girl. Such a thing is not possible. And what would a simple slave-girl like you know of war? War is a business for men, not women."

Tejana's head jerked up, her lovely face suddenly as hard as stone. "What would I know? What would _I_ know?" she hissed, her eyes seething with memory. "You _stupid _little humans! Always so sure of yourselves, never realising how unimportant in the Universe you really are! You think you invented the concept of war? You have no _idea_! My race were over a billion years old, they had overseen the rise and fall of a thousand empires across the galaxies, yet even they had no understanding of just how vast...just how _terrible_ it would be. The sheer destruction...the loss of life..." Her voice broke and trailed away into nothing, choked into silence by the apocalyptic enormity of what the Time War had been.

"You speak as if you are not human!" Matthias said in amazement.

"That's because she isn't," Brandon cut in. "She's the one whose coming was foretold in the prophecy of the Ruach...the woman with the hair of flame, who would come from beyond the stars in a blue box, as companion to the man of blood."

"The Ruach!" Matthias sneered. "More nonsense. Nothing but fairy-tales to entertain children!"

"Pretty big words for a bloke who just admitted he believes in magic!" Hart commented sardonically.

"It doesn't matter whether you believe in the prophecy or not," Tejana snapped. "What does matter is that you believe me when I tell you that this _temple_ is capable of destroying your entire world. What the Dark Lord has done to your people so far is nothing compared to what he will do next if we can't stop him. Brandon, this is a map of the inside of this ship - do you understand that much, at least? Can you follow it?"

Brandon nodded curtly. "Yes."

"We are here." She pointed to the lower levels of the floating diagram. Then, shifting her finger, she indicated the top level, where the landing bays were represented. "This is the entrance I came in by. From what I could see, the majority of the ship appears to be buried beneath the ground, so I'm not sure there are any other available exit points. Do you think you can find your way there?"

For a moment, Brandon paused, studying the glowing schematic closely. "Yes, I think so."

"Good. Then you'd better get going. We're running out of time fast."

"Are you sure...?"

"Please, Brandon," she insisted wearily. "Just go."

Giving in at last, he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on both cheeks. "May the blessing of the Ruach go with you, Tejana."

"And you," she responded.

He turned towards Hart. "You'd better take good care of her, Slave-taker scum!"

"Why don't you just leave that to me and worry about yourself, soldier?" the ex-Time Agent countered mockingly. "You and your men still have to get past the Lich to get out of here, you know. That won't be easy."

Brandon merely flicked him a dismissive look of contempt, before turning on his heel and marching away, followed closely by the other men. Matthias gave Tejana one last, suspicious glare and then brought up the rear of the group, quickly disappearing into the darkness beyond Hart's halo of light.

Tejana bit her lip as she watched them go, fervently hoping she wasn't sending Brandon to his death, like the rest of his family. But the men of Mnemosyne couldn't help her with what she needed to do. They would only be in the way and she couldn't allow that, not with so much at stake. She had done the best for them that she could and she had to be satisfied with that.

For a brief moment, her head swam dizzily. So many worlds already torn apart and destroyed by the Time War, the entire face of the Universe changed and lessened forever. Now, when it should all be over, here was another, perhaps the first of many, if Kelios could not be stopped.

"Are you OK, Princess?" Hart asked.

She lifted her head and stared at him blankly for a moment. Then she said, "Do you know what a Dalek is, Hart?"

He shook his head with a shrug. "Nope."

A bitter smile twisted her mouth. "Then you are very lucky and you should pray to keep it that way. The Daleks are the creatures my people fought during the Great Time War. Mutated humanoids encased in an armoured shell. The most fundamental feature of their culture is that they believe the Dalek race is superior to all other species. Their default directive is simple: Kill everything in the Universe that isn't a Dalek. They are ruthless, single-minded and completely beyond reason. And by the time of the War, they were technologically advanced enough to match the Time Lords. So we fought them. And we told ourselves that the conflict was _right,_ that it was necessary, that we were protecting the peoples of the Universe. That was how we justified it, all the darkness and bloodshed and the unthinkable destruction. Because we knew we were fighting for a just cause - we were altruistic, blameless, _noble_. But the truth was, it was never about any of that at all. It was about _hate_. Two powerful races hating each other so much that nothing else mattered but each destroying the other." She raised her hand to the holographic image, stroking through the lines of light, which rippled and reformed as her fingers passed through them. "Don't you get it, Hart? That's what this ship is. The _Cruciform_ is hate personified. The things it brought into being during the War were horrors that no-one should ever have to comprehend. And it was the Time Lords who were responsible for bringing that to the Universe, not the Daleks. Kelios told me that he had been assigned a Time Lord to help him develop this ship. One of my own people knowingly took the Matrix technology – technology that for a billion years had always been dedicated to preserving life and knowledge – and twisted it and corrupted it to help create this...abomination."

"Someone you knew?"

She indicated a series of Gallifreyan symbols appearing along the bottom of the holograph. "These schematics are signed off by someone named 'The Technician'. I've never heard of a Time Lord by that name," she replied. Tears trickled down her face, pain and abhorrence twisting her hearts. "Oh gods, what did we become, in the end? How could one of us have done this? I've never realised before just how shameful we became, just how much our race deserved to die!"

"Can't answer that, Princess," he said ruefully. "The past is the past. Question is, what are we going to do about it now?"

Tejana nodded, gathering herself together with an effort, struggling to pull her mind away from the horrors of the Time War to concentrate on the here and now. "From what Kelios said during his little bragging session, with the Master as its heart and power source, this ship was powerful enough to win the War all on its own and then some. And yet somehow the Doctor managed to overcome it and finish the War single-handedly, while the Master ended up transformed into a human and stuck at the end of the Universe, with no memory of any of it ever happening. So the _Cruciform_ is not unbeatable. And right now, until the Master gets here, its heart is still missing."

"So it's vulnerable," the ex-Time Agent grinned. "Now you're talking. So what do we do?"

"I don't know," she admitted. Turning back to the three dimensional schematic, she pointed to the centre of the cross-shaped ship, where the two transepts intersected. "But this area here, labelled as the 'Axis', seems to be the nucleus of the ship. I think some of the answers we're looking for may be there."

Hart unholstered one of his blaster-pistols and spun it cockily around on his finger.

"Then what are we standing around talking for? Let's go."


	27. Chapter 27

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Hello! Yes, I'm still alive and I'm back, both of which I'm very happy about, needless to say! I can only hope everyone hasn't completely forgotten me in the interim, fingers crossed. **_

_**Thank you so much to all the people who sent me "Get Well" messages via PM, I appreciated each and every one, you are all such wonderful people. It's reminded me what a supportive little community this fandom is – it's just amazing.**_

_**Thank you also to everyone who took the time to review since my last update. I love reviews and they certainly make me feel hugely better! So ta very much to the following people: Imorgen, Abby, MayFairy, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Aietradaea, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, therani, LexySummers, Lost Moon, SawManiac211, Bernice-Summerfield, Geraldine, Dryu, Catelly, MountainLord-92, Ahsilaa, EDZEL2 (x5) and EmmaMarie.**_

_**Special thanks to my new reviewers: Abby and therani. I'm so glad you let me know what you think. Abby – sorry I took a while to update, but hopefully you haven't given up on me and will enjoy the new chapter. Therani – I truly hope you are recovering well after your surgery, I know how tough that can be, so take care XXX**_

_**OK, took me ages to write this, so hopefully it's not a disaster. Cheers!**_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN<strong>

The attack almost caught them by surprise. Almost. But not quite.

"Lich!" Hart yelled, firing his blaster pistol into the opaque darkness ahead of them. Very briefly, the entire corridor was lit by the laser, like a blaze of lightning, and Tejana could see something translucent and indistinct moving through the gloom. Then the flash faded and there was an inhuman screech and a weighty thump, like something heavy falling to the floor.

_He got one of them, _she thought wildly.

At the same moment, her sharp ears caught a faint scrabbling noise back the way they had come.

"They're behind us too!" she warned, the hair standing up on the back of her neck as she felt the unseen eyes glaring at her through the darkness. "Give me the other gun! And turn out the light, it's making us a target!"

The dim glow from Hart's wrist-strap winked out, leaving them back-to-back in the inky darkness, both their bodies taut with tension. _Stuck in the dark, surrounded by who-knows-how-many murderous invisible creatures, _Tejana reflected bitterly. _Oh, that's just fabulous!_ She felt Hart's fingers sliding down her right arm and then the hard, lethal shape of a blaster pistol being pressed into her hand.

"You sure you can handle that, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes?" he asked in a doubtful undertone. "It's not a toy, you know!"

"You needn't worry about that," she retorted, her finger finding the trigger. "I might never have been in murder rehab, but I was taught by the best!"

With that, she fired a blinding blast back down the black corridor and another shriek echoed off the walls.

Hart chuckled. "If you're talking about Jack, sweetheart, he's only the second best. _Now_ you're with the best!"

Three more shots from his gun in quick succession, three more screams in the darkness.

"Touchdown!" he crowed happily.

_He's loving this, _Tejana thought. _This is all one big game to him._

But she had to admit, he _was_ good. To so accurately target the small, transparent creatures without even being able to see, using his hearing alone to track them...for a human, his senses were nothing short of amazing. Not that she would ever tell him so. Not in a million years.

"Do me a favour and try not to trip over your own ego, Hart," she said tartly.

"Just shut up and shoot, Princess!" he answered, a grin in his voice.

After that, there was no more time for anything except defending themselves. The Lich just kept mindlessly pushing forward in the narrow corridor, only to be cut down in wave after wave. They seemed to have no idea how to fight against an enemy armed with blaster pistols, relying on force of numbers to overwhelm them instead, a strategy that was never going to be successful in such a cramped space.

_They're used to dealing with unwary humans armed with nothing but swords and knives, _Tejana realised, a sick feeling churning in her stomach as she listened to them die. _And I bet Kelios wants us alive and unharmed, so they can't use their spears. _

She couldn't help wondering what the Doctor would say about his daughter helping to slaughter so many of the ancient indigenous species of Mnemosyne. But then she tightened her grip on the pistol and stubbornly pushed the thought away. She knew she couldn't afford to feel any compassion for these creatures, not if she was to have any chance of saving the Master. Whatever the Doctor wanted to believe, life was all about choices. And, for Tejana, if it came down to a choice between the Master and the Lich, there was no contest.

_I didn't ask for this, _she told herself as she continued to fire. _And at least if the Lich are fighting us here, it might give Brandon and the others a chance to get safely to the surface._

She had no idea how long the skirmish lasted. Her mind went blank, her only desire being to make each and every shot count, just as Jack had taught her. The minutes seemed to run together in a continuous blur and all the muscles in her arm were aching from holding the heavy blaster pistol steady. But eventually she felt Hart reach back and seize her roughly by the hand, his strong, calloused fingers gripping hers like a vice.

"RUN!" he shouted, dragging her up the corridor. Dimly, she saw he had killed all the Lich in the passageway ahead, clearing an escape route for them. Stumbling over the dozens of dead creatures littering the floor, she ran with him, leaving the carnage in the dark behind them.

* * *

><p>Night was falling across Mnemosyne. The shadows crept across the landscape on soft feet, as silent and stealthy as thieves, intent on stealing away the last glimmer of daylight. Ahead, the darkening horizon glowed scarlet, the colour of fresh blood, raggedly pierced by the sharp, thrusting mountain peaks, pointing blackly to the sky. Leaves rustled faintly in the evening breeze and, in the distance, a lone wolf howled, a sound of indescribable loneliness echoing through the trees like a funeral dirge.<p>

The Master was aware of none of it. _He was close now, so very close_. With his mental connection to Tejana broken and with no Hart to guide him, he knew he should be lost, unsure which way to go to reach Temple of the Pythia. But something else was calling him now, a summons he could not ignore, drawing him along this path like an iron filing to a magnet.

He fought to think, to concentrate on where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. But his head seemed to be too hot, too _full_, overcrowded to bursting point with venom and the unpredictable blazing white surges of regained memory.

And, most of all, the insidious, whispering voice that sounded so much like his own, but wasn't.

It had grown stronger and stronger as he had climbed higher up the mountain, to the point where could now recognise words in amongst the previously-indistinct whispers. He gazed up at the towering peak looming high above him and it was as though he saw through eyes that did not belong to him, images he had never seen before flooding though his brain – _hurtling through the atmosphere of Mnemosyne, falling and burning, falling and burning, the mountain coming closer and closer, then the blazing impact, red flowers of flame exploding all around him, fountains of super-heated rock flowing and burning as he burrowed deep into the earth, to lie trapped and buried and quiescent as the centuries waxed and waned, time passing as he waited, always waiting..._

_But no more, _the voice said triumphantly. _Now the waiting is over, because you are coming home._

_Home?_ he thought dazedly. My home. _Amin b'ara. _He had said that not long ago, hadn't he? But who to? It had been important, deep inside he knew that, so incredibly important. But he couldn't think, couldn't _remember_...

_Come home, Master, _the echo of his own voice called to him, drowning out his thoughts. _Come home._

* * *

><p>"Surely the entire place can't be this damn dark?" Hart growled, leading the way along the winding corridors, his blaster pistol at the ready in his right hand, his wrist-strap once more lighting their way through the claustrophobic darkness. They seemed to have eluded the Lich, at least for the time being, but both companions remained tense and on full alert for any sign of further pursuit.<p>

Following in his wake, careful to keep within the frail protection of the glowing pool of illumination, Tejana shivered, her skin crawling at the unnatural oppression of the surrounding shadows. "The _Cruciform_ doesn't like the light," she said shortly. "It loves the darkness."

"You keep talking about it as if it's alive," Hart said.

"It is, in a way. It's a bit hard to explain. I'm not sure I even understand it completely myself. It's sentient, but it's a borrowed sentience."

"Borrowed? How do you mean?"

"Kelios and the Technician combined their skills to build this ship to use psychic pollen to tap into the dark side of a Time Lord's mind, thereby creating the ultimate weapon. I think that, even then, even after they'd finished, it was still only a ship, still only a tangle of wires and technology...but then they plugged it in to the darkest mind of all."

"Blondie?"

"Yes. And the psychic pollen gorged itself, fed and fed, grew stronger and stronger, mirroring more and more of the Master's dark side, until it became more or less alive in its own right, separate from Kelios's technology, separate even from the Master himself."

"So...you're saying this ship became some kind of weird psychic manifestation of Blondie's dark side?"

Tejana sighed and shifted her blaster pistol from her right hand to her left, trying to ease the tightness in her shoulder muscles. "In simplistic terms, yes, that's what I think."

"Oooo-kay. From what I've seen of Blondie so far, I'm guessing that's not gonna be a good thing, right?" Hart inquired dryly.

Tejana thought of all the terrible things the Master had done throughout the centuries and forced back the small, hysterical laugh that threatened to burst from her mouth. "To tell the truth, Hart, I don't think it could get any worse."

* * *

><p>At last, largely thanks to Hart's unerring sense of direction, they managed to find the door they were searching for in the black maze of passageways.<p>

"This is it," Tejana said in relief. "The Axis. The centre of the ship."

Hart was examining the panel lock on the heavy steel door. "This is DNA-coded," he muttered. "It will only open for a recognised DNA signature. I can probably eventually trip the lock with my wrist-strap, but it's gonna take me a long while."

"Here, let me have a look," Tejana offered, stepping forward.

He moved backwards with a sarcastic flourish. "Sure, be my guest."

Reaching up, she placed her small hand firmly on the palm-print reader.

"It won't work, Princess," he growled impatiently as he watched her. "I told you, it's DNA-coded."

But even as the words left his mouth, the panel glowed green and the door slid obediently open. Hart's mouth fell open in surprise. His gob-smacked expression was so funny that Tejana would have laughed, if the situation had not been so dire.

"How did you...? But there's no way it could have recognised your DNA!"

"It didn't," she replied softly, her eyes avoiding his in the dim light. "It recognised the Master's DNA."

He stared at her. "_Blondie's_ DNA? But the only way you could have his DNA inside your body is..." He broke off and his eyebrows shot up in astonished realisation. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," she agreed curtly. "Exactly. Holy shit."

"Well, how about that? Congratulations, Princess!" he told her sardonically. "Does the proud Dad-to-be know yet?"

Tejana scowled, her defensive hackles rising. She already felt enough guilt about not telling the Master, without putting up with a jerk like Hart rubbing it in. "No, not yet. So let's cut the chat and just get on with this, OK? Because the sooner we can all get out of this mess, the sooner I get a chance tell him," she gritted out.

"Ooooh, now I'd love to be a fly on the wall for _that_ conversation," Hart jeered, tossing the words over his shoulder as he turned back toward the open doorway. "Hey, maybe he'll ask me to be godfather!"

"Yeah, in your dreams," she retorted, following him cautiously, her blaster pistol poised and ready.

Looking around as they entered, the ex-Time Agent gave a low whistle of amazement, instantly forgetting all about their previous conversation. "Whoa! I've been on a lot of ships in my time, Princess, but I've never seen anything like this before."

They were standing in a vast, spherical space, empty and echoing like an enormous cave. It was dim, lit only by the scores of winking lights which glimmered like tiny stars across the innumerable instrument panels that lined the walls. The furthest reaches of the room were murky and indistinct, shrouded in gloom. The air was hotter than ever here, moist and thick, vile and wet and choking in their lungs. Tejana swallowed hard, fighting back the sudden sickness that tightened her throat. Mocking sighs seemed to swirl and hiss around her, tiptoeing and shushing through her mind. But the pervasive sound was somehow different to the malicious, sibilant whispering she had heard in Kelios's throne room. There were no recognisable words or phrases. Instead, this almost sounded like something..._breathing_...something large, hidden in the darkness. Even though she knew it could only be her imagination, just the thought of the _Cruciform_ being alive enough to actually breathe sent shivers up her spine.

"Me either," she said in a low, tense voice, as they stepped forward into the room, apprehensively watching their shadows lengthen across the floor, sliding along like long, black, grasping fingers. "Let's just hope a swarm of Vashta Nerada haven't made a home here too, on top of everything else. Right now, nothing would surprise me about this creepy planet."

Hart frowned in puzzlement. "Vashta what?"

She sighed inwardly. It had been a bad joke and a thought she could have quite frankly done without in this eerie place. After all, she had more reason than most to know that the human phrase "jumping at shadows" was much more than just a saying. Haunting memories of her visit to the Library skittered unbidden through her brain, chilling the blood in her veins. _Hey, who turned out the lights?_

"Never mind, you don't want to know." She handed him back his second blaster pistol. "Watch the door, will you? We don't need any unexpected company."

With one last wary glance around the gloomy room, Hart returned to the entrance and pressed his back against the door-frame in a defensive stance, both his pistols drawn, keeping one eye on the corridor outside and one eye on the shifting shadows inside the room.

Trying to ignore the feelings of dread crawling along her skin, Tejana forced herself to keep walking until she reached the main instrument console, situated beneath an enormous holographic view-screen. She had precious little reason to trust John Hart, but she had to admit that it was remarkably comforting to know he was watching her back in this disturbing place. Somehow she got the feeling that whatever was lurking here was a thousand times worse than any Vashta Nerada.

She ran her eyes over the controls spread out before her. Here at least she was on familiar ground. The equipment appeared to be of standard Gallifreyan design. Which was lucky, she reflected, as she began to rapidly type in some commands on the keyboard. While she was capable enough when it came to manipulating technology, it had never been one of her major strong points. If the Master or the Doctor had been here, that would have been a different matter. This sort of thing would have been child's play to either of them.

_But they're not here_, she reminded herself grimly. _There's only_ _me_. _And I have to figure this out by myself._

Before long, she was connected to the central core of the ship's computer. Kelios was obviously managing to generate enough power from somewhere to keep the essential systems running, even though the majority of the ship had been inactive for centuries. Tejana skimmed through file after file, a small frown of concentration etching her brow as a parade of Gallifreyan symbols danced frenetically across the huge screen above her head. Back when she was a child, students of the Time Lord Academy had been taught to read and write computer source code like any other language, practising over and over until it came as naturally as breathing. And, as with any other language, no two Time Lords ever wrote it quite the same – everyone had their own particular style, their own unique way of doing it. For example, Tejana could have instantly identified source code written by either the Doctor or the Master wherever she found it in the Universe. _This code though..._She gazed at the symbols intently. The paradigms were familiar. She knew she had seen code just like it before, a long time ago. _But where? When? And who had written it?_

Behind her, John Hart shifted restlessly in the doorway. "My spidey-senses are tingling, Princess. Hurry it up, will ya? I'm guessing we won't have the place to ourselves for long."

"I'm going as fast as I can!" she snapped, her fingers flying over the keyboard, laboriously tracing her way through the system to locate and access the final entry in the ship's log. Her breath caught painfully in her throat as she saw the Gallifreyan star-date on the entry.

_The final day of the Time War. The Last Day of Gallifrey._

Static shivered across the holographic screen and a three dimensional picture slowly began to form. It was a handsome young man with curly black hair and intelligent dark eyes. Shock hit Tejana like a slap in the face as she recognised him. _What the hell was this...? _The image was unmistakably Damon Smith, the young human guard who had so recently given his life to save hers on board _The Valiant, _during the battle against the vile creature known as Legion_. _But the figure on the view-screen above her was not wearing the black uniform of the Master's bodyguard, as he had when she had known him. Incredibly, he was dressed in a Gallifreyan tunic and trousers, proudly decorated with the insignia of the Prydonian chapter. His features were worn and tired, haggard with strain and grief. But all it took was one glance into his eyes and, with both her hearts, she knew.

Damon Smith was a Time Lord.

"No...no, that's not _possible_!" she gasped, taking a stricken step backwards, her gaze fixed incredulously on his face on the screen. "I scanned him! He was _human_!"

"My name is Damon, of the House of Windcrest," he said, his eyes boring insistently into hers, as if he was truly standing before her instead of being merely a recorded image from long ago. "I am a Time Lord of Gallifrey, known as the Technician. I am the Chief Co-ordinator of the Matrix and a member of the High Council of Gallifrey. I am making this recording in the solemn hope that someone out there survives the Time War and so that the truth of what happened here can be known."

Tears were running heedlessly down Tejana's face as the terrible knowledge sank in, like a jagged knife ripping through her back.

_Damon...oh gods, DAMON! _

She couldn't seem to focus, couldn't seem to make sense of it, all her thoughts slamming together and whirling in utter confusion. No wonder the computer source code had seemed so familiar – she had seen it _thousands_ of times before, long ago, back when she was young on Gallifrey, back when Damon of the House of Windcrest had been her only friend. Damon..._her _Damon...was the Technician. She had thought him _dead_, killed in the Time War like the rest of her people. But instead, that so-familiar face...the face of human Damon Smith...oh gods, the Chameleon Arch! It had to have been, there was no other answer. Somehow he had managed to make himself human, just as the Master had done. Somehow he had escaped the Time War to live on Earth. And somehow, without ever realising, she had found him again, as a bodyguard on board the _Valiant_. She had laughed with the human Damon Smith, had a snowball fight with him, ran with him, fought alongside him, touched him, kissed him, held him as he died in her arms...and she had _never known_. A silent scream of indescribable rage and anguish built in the back of her throat.

_She had been so close to finding him and she had NEVER KNOWN!_

"This ship is known as the _Cruciform,_" Damon was saying harshly. "I helped to build it. I take full responsibility for that. This evil would not exist, but for me. At the command of Lord President Rassilon, I took my expert knowledge as Co-ordinator of the Time Lord Matrix and shared it with the half-blood Shabogan, Kelios, bastard son of the House of Oakdown, to create the greatest weapon of mass destruction the Universe has ever seen. I know now that my actions were inexcusable, but I believed that I was enabling Gallifrey to win the War against the Daleks. I believed that we were doing the only possible thing we could, to defend the peoples of the Universe against the ultimate threat. Yet I was betrayed. The Daleks were never the ultimate threat. Kelios is completely insane. He never intended to end the War. He has been using the _Cruciform _to escalate the conflict, in the hope that the Time Lords and the Daleks would destroy each other, leaving this ship as the most powerful force in the cosmos."

_Oh, Damon...! _Both Tejana's hearts contracted in pain as she saw the defeated shame and self-loathing written across her friend's face. She remembered the laughing boy she had grown up with, so loving and protective, quick-tempered and idealistic, so full of hope for the future, so proud to be chosen as one of the elite Matrix technicians straight out of the Academy. She could see no trace of that bright, confident boy in the man on the screen before her. His face was still young, but his eyes were old...so old and so bitter.

"I have no doubt that we are now living in the final days of the War. The end draws near and the Universe teeters on the brink of annihilation," Damon continued. "Kelios has used the power of the _Cruciform _to create the most dire weapon of all, an unstoppable force known as 'The Moment', with the ability to wipe millions of people from Time itself, a capacity for destruction limited only by the will of the one who wields it. The Shabogan plans to hand this thing...this unspeakable abomination...to the Daleks. Already, the Dalek Emperor's ship approaches, to take possession of the Moment, to use it to destroy the Time Lords and to win the War."

Tejana stiffened in disbelief and horror. The _Moment_? The _Cruciform_ had created the Moment, the devastating weapon the Doctor had ultimately used to destroy both the Daleks and Gallifrey? And Kelios had been going to give it to the _Daleks_?

But if the _Cruciform_ had created the Moment...that had to mean that it too had been drawn from the Master's mind...her _life-mate's_ mind...just like all the other horrors of the Time War._ Oh gods, Koschei, what did they do to you back then? What did they put you through? _

She felt as if she was standing on a bed of quicksand, slowly sinking deeper and deeper, with no-one to pull her out. How was any of this possible? The War had been one of the most devastating and formative events of her life, the endless darkness and blood-lust and suffering and loss honing and shaping her into the person she had eventually become. Yet everything she had thought she had known, everything she had thought to be true, none of it had happened that way at all.

She stared up angrily at the image of the man who had once been her most precious friend, her fists clenched so tightly that her own fingernails tore ragged dints in the palms of her hands. "What happened?" she cried aloud at the screen. "_Damn you, Damon, tell me what really happened!_"

In the background, she was dimly aware of Hart's alarmed voice calling to her. "Princess? Princess! Are you all right?"

But she didn't reply, _couldn't_ reply. The ex-Time Agent seemed to belong to an unreal world, an unreal life, one that she could no longer comprehend, a tangled web made up of lies and deceit. All her attention was focused on the past, desperately trying to make sense of the dark secrets that had lain hidden for so long.

"But that's not the worst of it," Damon said bleakly, his recorded words reaching to her across Time, as if in reply to her impassioned demand. "We can expect no help from the Time Lords. All the others on the High Council have gone mad. In response to the creation of The Moment, they've voted in secret to implement the Final Sanction. Rassilon intends to destroy the Temporal Nucleus, unravelling the vortex and rupturing Time itself. He cares for nothing but the preservation of our race, whatever the cost, even to the point of destroying every other living thing in the Universe. The Time Lords will survive by becoming creatures of consciousness, discarding their mortal bodies, enabling them to become free of the Laws of Time and cause and effect. But, in the process, the rest of Creation will cease to be." Damon's voice was dull with despair, his weary face etched with anguish. "I grew up believing that the Time Lords were the greatest race in the Universe. For a billion years, we watched over the galaxies, as a father watches over his children, protecting and maintaining the balance of all things. For untold centuries, we held the Song of the Universe in the palms of our hands. We were the final line of defence against evil, the last light in the darkness. But that last light has gone out. Because now the Time Lords have become bigger monsters than any we ever fought."

He paused, looking back anxiously over his shoulder, before facing the camera again. "Kelios has ordered his droids to kill me. They're coming for me now. I can hold them off, but not for long. I don't expect to survive this and that is no more than I deserve. But there is still one last chance, one man who may be able to avert this apocalypse. His name is the Doctor. And if anyone can save the Universe, it's him. I've managed to send him a hypercube, telling him the truth of all that Kelios has done and all that Rassilon is planning. They say it's impossible for anyone to intercept a hypercube message, so I can only pray that it reaches him safely and in time. If anyone is watching this, perhaps I have been successful, at least in this. If not...then all I can say is, I'm sorry."

Then the image on the screen seemed to shudder and stick, looping over and over again. And all Tejana could hear was Damon's sad voice saying, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

* * *

><p>Doors, huge doors, improbably set into the side of the mountain. A cold certainty coiled inside him. This was it. This was where he was supposed to be.<p>

_Home._

Without questioning how he knew, he slid off his horse. At first, his legs buckled under him, still weak and boneless from the venom in his system. But then, gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright again and stumbled across to the doors. Red-tinged light glared down from the twilit sky, bathing the tiny clearing in scarlet, making him feel as if he was wading ankle deep in a sea of blood.

The doors were engraved with a swirling figure-of-eight symbol, a seal blacker than the night. He stared at it, the dark lines appearing to twist and writhe in the vermilion half-light.

_Circles, _he thought irrelevantly to himself. _Isn't it odd how Time always loves interlocking circles?_

Stretching out his hand, he reached out to trace the lines with his fingertips. The surface was hot and sweaty to the touch, it felt almost...hungry. Avid. Greedy for him, wanting to take him, wanting to consume him.

_Yessss...come inside, Master. Come home..._

He pulled his hand away sharply, but too late. Again, a shining white vision sliced through him, catching him unawares.

_The inside of the thought bubble was all he knew, all he would ever know. There was no before, there was no after. There was just now, just him, eviscerated at the heart of the Cruciform, haunted by the voice of his own darkness, gnawing through his mind like a maggot crawling through a gangrenous wound. The voice tormented him unceasingly. It was never still, always restless, pacing like a savage animal, always searching for...what? An escape from the constraints of Kelios's technology? A way to separate itself from him? A way to become real?_

_But then...buzzing. There was a buzzing noise, like an enraged blowfly. He had heard it before, he knew, many times over the centuries, but it didn't belong here, in this place. He tried to gather enough of himself to remember. The Cruciform snarled in rage, striving against him, refusing to relinquish possession of his thoughts, clawing with black fury at his brain in an attempt to stop him. But the loud buzzing continued, circling around him, as if something was tracing the exterior circumference of the thought bubble. Bringing all his willpower to bear, he forced his way through the escalating pain, doggedly searching for the words he was looking for, until finally they came to him._

_Sonic. Screwdriver._

_And then there was light, blinding bright light, and a grinding, scraping noise as his tiny enclosed world cracked open like a shattered egg-shell. The top of the thought-bubble slid away and vanished. Completely disoriented, blinking owlishly against the influx of light, he saw two faces looking down at him._

_The first, he vaguely recognised as the young Time Lord who had helped to trap him inside this living hell. But the second...the second was dressed in Earth-style Victorian clothing, complete with green velvet jacket and silk cravat. He had shoulder-length dark wavy hair and steady blue eyes – eyes that the Master would have known anywhere._

"_Theta?" he croaked weakly, sudden confusion washing through him. Why did Theta look so sad? What trouble had they got into this time? If his father got yet another complaint from Borusa, the punishment was going to be beyond severe._

"_Doctor, we have to kill him!" the younger Time Lord urged. "Now, before it's too late!"_

"_No," the Doctor replied._

"_But we must! He's the heart of the Cruciform – it's the only way to permanently destroy it!"_

"_NO!" the Doctor said again, his voice emphatic as he looked down at the Master and their eyes met. "No. I never would."_

He never would,_ the Master thought_. The Doctor, the man who never would...

_Then the Doctor was reaching out his hand, as strong and solid as any lifeline, to firmly grasp the Master's._

_And everything began to spin and to change, the Doctor's grave face fading, the features changing, metamorphosing...a man with spiky brown hair, long side-burns and intense brown eyes, his face marked by bleeding cuts. He was standing in a pool of shattered glass, pointing a gun threateningly at the Master. _

You never would, you coward...

_The vision swirled again. He could still feel the hand in his own, but now it was smaller, more fragile, more delicately boned. Looking up, he realised it belonged to Tejana. She was naked and beautiful, her long silky hair entwined with his marriage flowers, her lips curved in a welcoming, loving smile. He tightened his grip on her hand, trying to pull her towards him, wanting to take her mouth in a fierce kiss, aching to feel her slender body pressed against his own. But she disappeared into thin air like smoke, leaving his arms empty, and he could hear taunting laughter all around him. _

_Kelios's laughter, just like that long ago day in Low Town._ How sweet to taste something my brother will never have!_ Rage built inside him as he heard the words, a black fury that demanded revenge, needed to punish and kill and destroy._

Yessss..._the dark, whispery voice hissed. _Your bastard half-brother took her from you long ago and now he's done it again. But this time you can do something about it. All you need to do is enter. You must choose...will you come home where you belong? Or will you walk away?

And then the vision released him and he was back standing before the huge doors embedded in the mountainside, his hand resting against the deeply-engraved Symbol of Rassilon. With an enormous rumbling sound, the doors parted beneath his touch and slid back into the mountain, leaving a wide, dark opening, gaping in front of him like a monstrous maw waiting to swallow him. He took a step backwards, cold fear suddenly tearing at his guts. Somehow he knew that this was the point of no return. Once he stepped through those doors, there would be no turning back, no second chances.

_Choose! _the voice demanded.

He took another step backwards. The terror welling towards him from the dark doorway was overwhelming. Suddenly, all he wanted was to run away as far and as fast as he could. He was the Master, a Time Lord, a stone-cold genius. He could find his own way off this planet. He didn't have to go inside. He could cut his losses right this minute and ride back down the mountainside to safety. Survive to fight another day, that was the motto he had always lived by in the past.

_Choose! _the voice said again.

Her small hand, resting so trustingly in his..._ Here we are,_ he had told her in the flower-starred meadow._ Together. And that's the way it's always going to be._

He raised his head, his eyes as dark as bitter chocolate, his face twisted in a snarl of determination.

"Ana," he said. "I choose Ana."

And with that, he stepped through the doorway into the blackness.

* * *

><p>The holographic screen fizzed and seemed to fold in upon itself, the image of Damon vanishing as though it had never been. Beneath Tejana's feet, the floor began to shake, a deep, rumbling sound vibrating through the entire infrastructure of the ship.<p>

"Tick tock, goes the clock," the Master's voice chuckled, loudly and clearly, directly behind her. But when she whirled around, there was no-one there.

Gradually, eerily, the banks of instruments lining the wall began to light up, row after row of panels springing to life with a steady hum of restored power. All at once, the heavy door leading to the corridor began to close inexorably. Hart struggled to hold it open, forcing it back with all his considerable strength, but to no avail. He only just managed to jump clear, narrowly avoiding being crushed to death as it clanged shut, trapping them inside.

Triumphant, mocking laughter echoed around the room...the same cruel laughter that she had once heard echoing around the bridge of _The Valiant._

"Oh, gods," Tejana said, the colour draining from her face.

Hart abandoned the door and ran towards her, his blaster pistol swinging back and forth as he covered the room.

"What the hell's going on, Princess?" he demanded.

"He's here," she answered through numb lips. "We're too late. The Master's already here."

Even as she spoke, the last remaining lights burst into life and they were at last able to see what had been lurking in the dim shadows in the far reaches of the room. It was an enormous gleaming sphere, hovering in mid-air, its rippling surface slowly changing from obsidian black to a shimmering rainbow, glittering with every colour in the known spectrum and some that weren't. Ponderously, as though waking from a deep sleep, it began to move towards them, floating gracefully through the air with inexorable menace.

"What is it?" Hart yelled, bringing his weapon up to aim at it.

"I don't know!" she screamed back. "I don't know!"

More spectral laughter whirled madly around the room. Hart fired at the sphere, over and over again, but the laser blasts merely sank harmlessly into its glutinous shell. The thing continued to advance without even pausing, crowding them back against the semi-circular control console.

"Hart, use your vortex manipulator!" Tejana ordered.

"For _what_? I've only got enough energy for one!" Hart shouted, still firing, even though he knew it was useless.

"I know that! Get out of here!" she responded fiercely. "There's nothing you can do for me now. Save yourself!"

"But..."

"Just go!"

The sphere was close now, almost within touching distance. Tejana saw Hart give her one last regretful look, then he flipped open the cover on his wrist-strap and pressed a button. She expected to see him disappear immediately, but nothing happened. He was still standing there, a look of bewildered shock on his features.

"That double-crossing son of a bitch!" she heard him say furiously.

But then the sphere bore down on her and swallowed her whole and she heard no more.


	28. Chapter 28

**_Author's Note: _**

**_Sigh, it seems a fair few folks /did/ forget me while I was gone, which is a bit disheartening. Ah well, that just makes me appreciate the people that /did/ R & R even more. _**

**_So thanks for making my week so much better: MayFairy, EmmaMarie, noideagirl (x 4), Guessswho, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, LexySummers, Geraldine, Aietradaea, BLEACH IT WHITE, SawManiac211, Lost Moon, Ahsilaa, Dry, Catelly and EDZEL2 (x 10)._**

**_Special thanks to Aietradaea for writing me another chapter of her wonderful Bloopers to pick me up when I was really down, you are terrific._**

**_To Romana 2: Hey girl, what's up with you? Your PMs are disabled and your profile page has been wiped. I hope you haven't got all discouraged and taken everything down, cos that would make me very sad!_**

**_Had to cut this chapter in half, because otherwise it was going to be around 10,000 words long. Also, I am now bald from pulling my hair out while trying to write it, so hope it is reasonably OK.  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT<strong>

The Master strode purposefully across the vast expanse of polished metal floor. If he had ever had any doubts about where he was, they had vanished like snow in the sunlight. This landing bay was only too familiar to him from his recently regained memories, as the place where he had entered the _Cruciform _for the first time, stepping down the ramp of his shuttle to meet his half-brother, completely unaware of the trap he was walking into.

He had passed over some sort of brink as he walked through the door marked with the Symbol of Rassilon, some sort of boundary. He had felt the invisible barrier irretrievably shattering around him, the insidious voice inside his head crying out in pure triumph as he passed the point of no return.

He remembered Hart's words in the ruined chapel as the Time Agent had carried Tejana away: "_For whatever reason, the Dark Lord needs you to come to the Temple by your own choice..._"

Obviously, for the _Cruciform_ to successfully link with his mind, he needed to enter the ship of his own free will, just as he had the first time, so long ago. Tricked by Rassilon, but willingly, all the same. Like those ancient human myths that said you had to choose to invite a vampire into your house before it could cross the threshold.

_His own choice_.

So many choices he had made in his long, long life. But this time, for the first time ever, his choice had not been for power, or for conquest, or even for his own survival. This time, his choice was for Ana. And yet he had made it, just as Kelios had known he would, even though he was fully aware of what was waiting for him. The dice had been rolled and there was no turning back. In the back of his head, he could hear the eerie chanting of the freak show marionettes, perfectly synchronised with the steady, unhesitating tread of his feet.

"_Tick tock, goes the clock, too late now to run. Tick tock, goes the clock, the Time of Chaos comes..."_

Despite the ominous words, he wasn't afraid. All the fear and the blurred confusion caused by the lamia's venom seemed to have fallen away as soon as he stepped through the doorway. Everything inside his mind was now crystal clear and diamond hard. And cold. Frozen, icy, bitter cold, like a blizzard in winter. Which was strange, because he could still feel the growing heat on his skin as he walked down the long corridor towards the core of the ship, a blistering wave of moist, sticky heat, reaching out to envelop him, raising the sweat from his pores, just as it had back during the Time War.

And, at his heels, the thing that he knew was following along behind him like a dog, just out of sight, hovering at the corner of his eye. But this wasn't a dog. It was a shadow image, pacing him perfectly, step by step, mirroring every move he made.

A shadow that was him and yet not him.

The thing was not yet real, not yet tangible. Nobody but him would even know it was there. But, with every step he took deeper into the_ Cruciform_, somewhere deep inside the frozen wasteland of his mind he recognised that it was in the process of _becoming_.

* * *

><p>Kelios sat on his obsidian throne, his dark eyes glittering with furtive, snake-like excitement as they fixed steadfastly on the door at the end of the room. He had waited here on Mnemosyne for so very long...months stretching into years...years stretching into decades...decades stretching into centuries...and now his time was finally here. At long last, his patience would be rewarded. His hated half-brother had arrived. In his characteristic and bone-deep arrogance, the Master had stepped willingly across the threshold of the <em>Cruciform<em>, just as Kelios had always anticipated.

All around him, the long-dead systems at the heart of the crippled ship were humming and stirring back into life, already starting to feed on the dark psychic energy contained in the one single, powerful mind for which they had all been specifically designed. A mind that was coming steadily closer, step by step.

Kelios threw back his head and laughed. _You are not the COMMANDER of the Cruciform, my brother. You ARE the Cruciform! _The thrill of triumph that rippled through him was even sweeter now than it had been when he had first said those words so long ago.

He turned his head gloatingly to the figure that stood motionlessly on his left, beside the black throne.

"I congratulate you, Captain Hart, you were correct. It seems the Lord Master _would _follow Lady Tejana into hell itself," he sneered. "How very noble of him."

But Hart did not move or speak, standing sharply to attention like a tin soldier. Kelios grinned and trailed his eyes across to the other side of his throne.

"Such a pity she isn't currently in any position to appreciate his heroics," he added with mock sadness, gazing at the huge, opaque sphere floating several feet above the ground.

* * *

><p>Captain John Hart was furious. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to be this angry. Probably not since he had thrown Jack off that roof in Cardiff. Rage flared in the pit of his stomach. <em>How in the seven hells had he allowed himself to be tricked like this? <em> He was the consummate trickster, the ultimate conman. Betrayal and lies were his bread and butter. He should have realised immediately that there had been something wrong with the energy signature on his vortex manipulator, should have recognised that he had been double-crossed. Maybe, after five years stranded on this godforsaken planet, he was losing his touch.

Concentrating hard, he tried to flex his muscles, but he still couldn't move. The silver sphere had not absorbed him, the same way it had taken Tejana. However, a single touch from its glittering surface had suspended him in some sort of immovable stasis. Which was a bit ironic, he supposed, considering how he had frozen Tejana not so long ago with his paralysing lip gloss. He could sense the containment field slithering over his body like a second skin. At the same time, he could feel the heavy weight of his blaster pistols on his hips, the cold length of his Samurai sword at his back. Kelios hadn't even bothered to disarm him, as if he was no threat at all. Grim humour laced through his anger at the thought. _No threat?_ He would show that whack-job the meaning of threat if he managed to get his hands on his weapons again. All he needed was an opportunity, an opening...and he needed it soon. He had no wish to be caught up in a confrontation between Kelios and the Master. Whoever won that fight, it was not going to be good for John Hart. He had no doubt that Kelios intended to kill him, probably very painfully. But on the other hand, having seen what the Master had done to Lord Ivrium, he wasn't expecting much in the way of mercy if the Time Lord emerged the victor either, not after the way he had betrayed him. There was danger looming around him on every side, no matter what happened. Tejana had been his only possible ally and she was gone. He could just see the silver sphere from the corner of his eye, but he had no way of knowing whether she was dead or alive inside the obscenely rippling globe.

Then a movement in the doorway at the end of the long room caught his eye and he saw the Master appear silently, like a ghost out of the gloom. At the sight of him, Hart's stomach lurched and his tension sky-rocketed exponentially. _Oh, this isn't going to be good. This isn't going to be good at all, _he told himself, automatically starting to fight the stasis field again, even though he knew it was useless. A recollection of the Torchwood files he had hacked sprang unbidden into his mind, specifically the part where Jack had written that the Doctor was sometimes referred to as the "Oncoming Storm". At the time, Hart had scoffed at that, assuming it was just an affectation - a self-important, pretentious title the Doctor had adopted to make himself seem more dangerous than he really was. But seeing the Master's face in that moment, it suddenly dawned on him that as a description of an angry Time Lord, it was terrifyingly accurate. Physically, the Master looked no different to when Hart had left him back in the ruined chapel – the dusty, black jeans; the torn and blood-stained hoodie; the tousled, white-blonde hair; the thin, unshaven features. But as he walked towards them, each step as graceful and as deadly as a stalking panther, every molecule of air in his immediate vicinity seemed to crackle with electricity, an invisible halo of power gathering around him, as if the entire ship was recognising and welcoming the return of its heart and soul. To his right, the ex-Time Agent saw the shining surface of the glimmering sphere beside the throne slowly start to transmute to a deep, glowing scarlet.

Hart was far from being a superstitious man and he very rarely felt fear. He had always lived his life on the edge - the more risk, the more danger, the more he had revelled in it. In his line of work, fear was a luxury he couldn't afford. But as he looked down the length of that hall at the Master's cold, dark eyes, he knew with a deep, bone-chilling certainty that Death had just entered the room.

The entire time they had been travelling together, he had complacently considered himself the Master's equal – they were two of a kind; cut from the same cloth; mad, bad and dangerous to know. Tejana had tried to warn him that he was out of his league, but he hadn't understood. Now he did.

_Those eyes have watched entire worlds burn_, he realised in horrified fascination. _And will again._

All at once, he was more afraid than he had ever been in his life before. Beside him, he felt Kelios climb to his feet, the confrontation between the two men now inevitable. Panicked sweat broke out on Hart's brow as he fought even harder to move. Every cell in his body was screaming in warning, every fibre in his being telling him he had to get away from here, before something unthinkable happened. But he was trapped like a fly in amber. All he could do was to watch helplessly as events unfolded.

"Welcome, little brother," Kelios said, his deep voice full of mockery and disdain. "So nice of you to visit."

_Brother? _Hart thought incredulously, the truth slamming through his brain in sudden horrified revelation. _Don't tell me these two are brothers! Oh, no way, not again! Holy shit, even I couldn't be that freakin' unlucky! _

It had been bad enough being caught in the crossfire between Jack and his insane brother, Grey. But for it to happen _twice_, to end up stuck in the middle of some sort of vengeful sibling power struggle between these two out-and-out psychopaths...that was one cosmic joke Captain John Hart_ didn't_ appreciate!

"Hello," the Master responded coldly and calmly. "Bastard."

Instinctively, even without being told, Hart knew that the insult had not been used lightly, in the usual name-calling sense. The Master had said it deliberately, like a title. Hart couldn't turn his head to see Kelios's face, but he heard the other man's breath hiss angrily through his teeth, the barb evidently finding its mark.

"So...you finally remember me then?" Kelios snarled.

"I remember it all," the Master answered. "And you know why I'm here. Where is she?"

"You wound me, brother," Kelios sneered. "So long since we have seen each other, so much to be resolved between us, and yet your first thought is for the woman. When did you become so weak?"

The Master gave no sign that he had even heard the goading words. "_Where is she?_" he repeated, his tone like granite. "I won't ask you again."

Kelios laughed. "Where else would she be, but right here, with me?"

With that, he gave a gesture towards the floating sphere. Fighting the stasis with all he was worth, Hart tried to crane his neck sideways to see what was happening. He saw the glowing red surface of the sphere fade to rose pink and then become softly translucent, before turning completely clear, like an enormous soap bubble. Nestled inside was a small figure with a bright blaze of copper-coloured hair. She was lying on her back, her slender form transfixed in the shape of a cross, with her arms stretched out at right angles to her body. Every muscle in her body was rigid with agony, her tiny hands clenched into fists, her eyes screwed tightly shut, her ivory-pale face written with pain.

"So fragile and beautiful, almost like a sleeping Princess in a fairytale," Kelios said maliciously. "Such a shame that her sleep is so troubled. It makes one wonder what she is dreaming about, does it not, Koschei?"

The Master's eyes glittered, his face utterly still and yet filled with a terrible, barely-restrained violence. "What have you done to her?" he ground out.

"Me? " Kelios retorted, resuming his seat on his throne. "Oh, but that is the best part. I've done nothing. This is _your_ doing. The thought bubble has been inert for such a _very_ long time, but as soon as you stepped aboard this ship, it became active once more and absorbed her." He gave a small snigger that almost sounded like a giggle. "So it's quite ironic, really – in trying to save her, you're actually the one who has harmed her."

"You will let her go, right now!" the Master growled. "I'm ordering you..."

The dark amusement dropped away from Kelios's face, to be replaced with an explosion of sheer rage. "You _dare_ to order me? You say you remember it all, but still don't understand, do you? All this time, all the things I've done, and yet you've learnt_ nothing._ You march in here in all your Time Lord arrogance, with no weapons, no TARDIS, no advantages whatsoever, and you still expect to command me by right of blood. I think you've forgotten where you are, _brother_. This is not Gallifrey! The Time Lords do not rule here. This is_ my _domain. In this place, people live and die by _my _choice, not yours. Including your precious life-mate."

With that, he gestured again towards the hovering sphere. It pulsed red in instant response and, inside, Tejana convulsed in anguish. Ethereal images seemed to dance across the translucent surface of the bubble; crowded scenes of death and blood and war; shifting glimpses of squat, robot-like creatures that looked like angry pepper-pots with long eyestalks; a huge gathering of people in long, formal robes, their mouths open and shouting, their faces twisted in madness; fire and brimstone raining from a black and orange sky, relentlessly destroying everything in its path.

"Oh, don't worry, she's not insane quite yet," Kelios said off-handedly, not even bothering to glance at the bloody montage of memories. "She has a particularly strong mind and she hasn't been in there very long. But, of course, the technology of the _Cruciform _was not designed for her, so who can tell when she will break?"

"She has nothing to do with this!" the Master snarled through his teeth, his body tensed as if he was about to spring. "Nothing to do with the _Cruciform_ and nothing to do with what's between us!"

"Do you think that matters to me? Do you think it would matter to _you_, if our positions were reversed? The House of Oakdown has hardly made a practice of protecting the innocent, has it?" Kelios scoffed. "Make no mistake, I will not hesitate to tear her mind apart in front of you, piece by agonising piece, and I will _enjoy_ every moment of it, both her pain and yours!"

Black fury rolled across the Master's expression like storm clouds. "I came here willingly, just like you wanted. What more do you want from me?"

"I want what I've always wanted. Justice! Revenge! I want you to _grovel!_" Kelios screamed, his eyes wild and spittle gleaming on his lips. "I want the high and mighty heir of Oakdown on his knees before me, begging for his woman's life! And I want it _NOW!_"

The Master stiffened, as though an electrical current had just shot through his body, his face a mask of disgust. Hart stared at him in dismay, wondering which way this was going to go. Kelios was obviously completely insane, just as Grey had been. He'd bought a one way ticket on the Froot Loop express and there was no way back. Whatever grudge he had nursed against his brother over the centuries, it had clearly pushed him over the edge long ago. The question was, how far was the Master prepared to go to save Tejana? Killing for her was one thing – Hart knew that for the Master that was no hardship, no challenge, no sacrifice at all. Violence was just part of who he was, as natural as breathing. But humiliating himself before his enemy was another issue altogether. For a man who had chosen to call himself 'the Master' for the best part of nine hundred years, kneeling was not something that would ever come easily, especially to a brother he evidently held in such contempt. Not to mention that he had no guarantee that Kelios would not just kill Tejana anyway, as soon as he had what he wanted.

Hart's eyes strayed to the tiny, vulnerable-looking figure trapped inside the thought bubble, his thoughts shifting back to his own words to her back in the cave.

_You remind me of a beautiful, shimmering butterfly, right before its lovely wings are torn off..._

Jack would have knelt in an instant, he knew, would have begged Kelios until his voice was raw and ragged. Whatever it took to protect her - however slim the chance - he wouldn't have hesitated, no matter how much the humiliation flayed his soul. But would the Master do the same? Just how important was she to him?

And again Hart's own words echoed back to him: _He's a dangerous man, Princess...and he's going to end up destroying you. You should have stayed with Jack. You really, really should have stayed with Jack._

* * *

><p>The Master felt a vicious snarl of frustration ripping up his throat, threatening to burst through his clenched teeth. His regained memories were still so fresh and uncertain and yet the hatred he felt for the man before him was centuries old; the Shabogan's face's strange, as if he was seeing him for the first time, and yet simultaneously familiar, as if he had known and despised him all his life.<p>

The cold rage, the urge to crush his bastard brother into tiny pieces, was almost overwhelming as he watched Tejana's blackest memories flicker and dance across the surface of the thought bubble, too quickly for the eye to follow, a whirling blur of colours and shapes and faces. He knew the dark things that lurked in her mind only too well. He had shared her dreams far too many times not to be aware of them. Sometimes it had even pleased him, to know that at certain times of her life, the shadows in her soul had been more than a match for his own. It seemed to bind her even more closely to him, pulling her further and further away from the Doctor's sanctimonious sphere of influence, until she belonged even more exclusively to him. However, with a chill of fear, he also knew that unexpectedly being forced to confront the truth of her inner demons could easily drive her mad, just as Kelios had threatened.

_You march in here in all your Time Lord arrogance, with no weapons, no TARDIS, no advantages whatsoever, and you still expect to command me by right of blood..._

The Shabogan was a fool. Who did he think he was dealing with? He had a plan, of course he did. He was the Master, he always had a plan. A risky, dangerous plan, perhaps, but still a plan nonetheless.

The invisible shadow creature at his heels gibbered and raged silently. It had its own agenda altogether and it was growing impatient with his delay. He couldn't silence the voice, but for the time being he ignored it, concentrating instead on the problem at hand. After all, noises in his head were something he was more than used to dealing with.

He knew he had to get Ana out of the thought bubble, before her mind splintered and she was lost to him forever. But to kneel to this filthy, misbegotten, half-blood Shabogan...to beg anything from the man who had destroyed his life before it even began...? His brain was screaming in outright refusal, burning with hate. Every single atom of his being revolted in bitter disgust at the idea of submitting to a creature as inferior and worthless as Kelios. In nine centuries as the Master, he had never believed in much. He had never had any principles or ethics or morals. Nothing had been sacred, everything had been expendable, a means to an end. But the one belief he_ had_ always adhered to was the absolute superiority of the Time Lord race. Even though he had disagreed with almost everything they had ever stood for, he had always believed that to be a Time Lord was to be greater than any other being in the Universe. It was the one thing he had always held on to, that deep-seated pride, no matter how far he had fallen, no matter what depths he had sunk to - even when he was crawling in the dust in the wasteland on Earth, eating human tramps to survive. The knowledge was in his blood, too ingrained in him to ever change, as much a fundamental part of him as his own double heartbeat. How could he just let that pride and hatred go, when it was all he had for so long?

The shadow creature stirred again, the force of its will increasing every second that passed, growing stronger and stronger as he hesitated. It cared nothing for Tejana or what happened to her. It wanted one thing and one thing alone.

_Kill him, _it urged. _You know what needs to be done. _ _He constrains us, confines us, fences us in...he needs to die! You must set us free!_

The Master locked eyes with his half-brother for one, long moment, and Kelios glared back at him, madness in his gaze - the two sons of Oakdown, matching each other hate for hate.

"You can't do it, can you? You can't overcome your hatred and your prejudice, not even for her," the Shabogan taunted. "I admit, at first I was taken aback when I discovered you had found each other again, despite all my interference in the time-lines, especially when she told me you had given her your true name. So very out of character for you, so very unlike the twisted monster I helped to create so long ago. But I see you have not changed as much as all that. Perhaps her life means nothing to you, after all. Just how vulnerable has she made you, brother? Are you weak enough to kneel to me? Or are you strong enough to watch her die?"

_The myosotis in her hair in the moonlight...her slender body in his arms, her soft voice in his ear, passionately crying out his true name...his life and hers, inextricably entwined into one strand, for the rest of eternity..._

It was true, back in the wasteland of his existence before Ana, back in the insanity of the never-ending drumbeat, there had been nothing to sustain him, nothing to keep him going, except his pride and his hatred. But suddenly, in a blinding flash, he understood that everything _had_ changed since then. Because, bit by bit, piece by piece, almost without realising it, he had finally found something else to believe in, something different, something stronger, something _better_.

Without dropping his contemptuous gaze, his movements stiff and reluctant and unyielding, the Master fell first to one knee and then the other, until he was kneeling at the foot of the black throne. Kelios sat forward abruptly, his eyes widening in greedy disbelief at the sight, eagerness and jubilation in every line of his body.

"So...weak indeed..." he hissed in astonished delight. "Now then, _Master_, let me hear you _beg_!"

Behind him, the Master could feel the invisible thing also kneeling, mimicking his every action perfectly, just like a real shadow, radiating impatience like a hidden beacon only he knew was there.

"Please," he rasped, his eyes still fixed on Kelios's face, the little-used word unfamiliar and bitter in his mouth. "Please, let her go."

"_My lord brother..._" Kelios prompted. "I am your elder, the first born of our House. You will address me with the correct respect, you snivelling little whelp. Say it!"

The Master felt revulsion twisting his features. Back on Gallifrey, the true-born heir of the House of Oakdown would cut his tongue out before he acknowledged this bastard as a brother. And Kelios was nothing but a low-caste Shabogan, never a Time Lord, he had no right to the title of lord. But Gallifrey was long gone, scattered into dust and ashes - and, right now, he had no choice.

_It doesn't change anything, Kelios...you will never be anything but a bastard, never be any more than the dirt beneath my feet..._

"Please let her go...my lord brother..."

Kelios bared his teeth in a triumphant smile and sat back in his throne. "Oh _excellent! _Well done! After all this time, just as it should be! Such a pity our oh-so-aristocratic father could not be here to see his precious heir abasing himself like this, I would have enjoyed that!"

He gave another negligent wave towards the thought bubble. For one horrifying instant, the Master thought it was all for nothing, that he was going to destroy Tejana anyway, just for kicks. But then a deep fissure traced around the circumference of the sphere, a black line crackling across the silvery surface, and it began to split open like a giant clam shell.

"I will grant your request, my Lord Master, since you asked so nicely," Kelios said magnanimously. "After all, she is only keeping your place warm. Captain Hart, if you wouldn't mind...?"

In response, Hart's ramrod straight figure jerked into sudden action and he began to stride jerkily across to the thought bubble, his stiff, over-coordinated movements reminding the Master of a clockwork robot. His face was white and set, his neck visibly corded with tension. The Master watched the ex-Time Agent coldly, visualising how easy and pleasurable it would be to gut him like a fish. Hart was the reason Tejana was in such dire straits and the Master wasn't likely to forget that in a hurry.

"Captain Hart is somewhat displeased with me for failing to keep to my end of the bargain when it came to repairing his vortex manipulator," Kelios sneered. "But since he tried to betray me by setting your lady free, I think I can safely say we are now even. It's amazing what a little bit of mind control can do, isn't it? He's resisting just as hard as he can, but even the strongest human minds are so pathetically easy to control. Then again, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Koschei?"

As the Shabogan spoke, Hart was reaching down into the lower half of the thought bubble and taking Tejana into his arms, lifting her free of the device. Mechanically descending the steps before the throne, he laid her on the floor in front of the Master. Then he drew one of his blaster pistols and stood over her, aiming at her head.

"He doesn't want to harm her," Kelios said. "But he will have no choice, if I command it. So have a care what you do, brother."

The Master wasn't even listening. His attention was all directed towards the small crumpled form on the floor, curled defensively into a foetal position, her arms wrapped around her head, as if to protect herself. He could see her shoulders shaking and he realised she was crying - terrible, breathless, bone-shuddering sobs that wracked her entire body.

"Ana?" he said, reaching out to her, only to see her flinch away from his touch with a gasp of fear. "Ana, it's me, Koschei. It's OK, I'm here, I've got you."

Scooping her up, he gathered her protectively against him as he knelt on the floor, holding her close and rocking her in his arms as she wept and wept.

"Koschei..." she sobbed. "Oh gods, inside that _thing_...I saw...I heard..." She broke off, her voice choking in horror, burrowing her head into his shoulder as far as she could, as if she wanted to climb right inside his skin to be safe.

"I know," he answered grimly, kissing the top of her head as he stared at the open sphere, thinking how much it resembled a hungry, red mouth leering at him. At the periphery of his mind, he could sense the shadow creature quivering with rabid anticipation at the sight. "I know, sweetheart. But it'll be all right now that I'm here. The _Cruciform_ is geared to my DNA, not yours. It can't hurt you any more."

Kelios laughed, his dark merriment echoing around the room, jeering and malevolent. "Is that what you think? Oh, now that _is _funny. You don't know, do you? She hasn't told you! All the pieces there in front of you, so very obvious, and you still haven't figured it out!"

"Haven't figured _what_ out?" the Master demanded, glaring up at his half-brother's derisive face. "_What _don't I know?"

"You've been asking all the wrong questions, Koschei. If you've remembered that the _Cruciform_ is programmed to respond only to your DNA, perhaps you should have been wondering why the thought bubble absorbed Tejana in the first place," Kelios grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

The Master blinked. His DNA. His DNA..._inside Tejana_? Both his hearts tightened in shock as the realisation of the thing he had been missing all along finally dawned on him.

_The strange food cravings. The nausea. The uncharacteristic exhaustion._

"Ana?" His voice was low and rough, strangled in his throat, hardly daring to hope that what he suspected was true.

She trembled in his arms and he guessed that now she was frightened not only of the _Cruciform_, but also of him, and what his reaction would be.

Her head came up and she looked at him, tears still streaming down her face. "Our...son..." she gasped. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Koschei. I wanted to tell you...but not like this...not like this..."

At her words, everything around him seemed to fade away. It was as if the entire Universe stood still, frozen in Time, waiting...

He forgot where he was, forgot about Kelios, forgot about the _Cruciform_. All he could see were those beautiful, jewel-bright green eyes; all he could hear were her words resounding in his ears.

"Our...son?" he whispered dazedly, glancing down at the still-flat plane of her stomach.

She nodded silently, holding her breath as she waited anxiously to see what he would do. Slowly, hesitantly, he put out a shaking hand and placed it across her belly. Without the psychic link open between them, he couldn't feel a thing. But, in that one transcendent moment of awe, that didn't matter, because he knew with both his hearts that, cradled beneath his palm, their child was growing.

_My son..._

He felt a sensation of warmth as her hand covered his, saw the shy, relieved smile in her glistening eyes. The storm of emotion that filled him was indescribable, like nothing he had ever felt in his life before. The joy, the triumph, the pure, sweet elation. He wanted to shout it aloud to the heavens, scream his victory across the galaxies, until everyone in the Universe knew of it.

_MY SON!_

But then his half-brother's unwelcome voice brought him back to reality with a jolt, the sound harsh and ugly and grating, cutting through their shared joy like a knife through butter. "Such a beautiful moment," he sneered. "Such an occasion for celebration, a brand new branch for the Oakdown family tree. But wait...there has been no official wedding celebration, has there? No sanction from the High Council for your union, no marriage agreement between the House of Lungbarrow and the House of Oakdown." The Shabogan laughed uproariously, as though it was the best joke in the world. "What a shame, Koschei! It seems your son will be a bastard, just like me!"

The Master's head shot up, rage exploding through his brain. "Ana belongs to me. She's given me her birth name. She's worn my marriage flowers in her hair. She shares my life and my bed. She's my wife in every way that matters, now that Gallifrey's gone!" he spat. "Our son will be true-born, a pure-blood Time Lord. He will be _nothing_ like you!"

"Whatever you say," Kelios said with a shrug. "After all, it will hardly matter to you, since you won't ever have the chance to see him."

Suddenly, the Master realised that the thought bubble was slowly re-sealing itself, the black line encircling the surface vanishing as the blood-red glow began to pulse inside it once more. Behind him, the shadow creature skittered and danced in avid excitement, as if it knew the moment it was aching for was coming closer and closer.

"But you can rest assured that your son will be in the best possible hands," Kelios continued smugly, watching with rapt attention as the floating sphere began to move, closing the distance to the Master with increasing speed. "Mine!"

"No!" Tejana screamed, her eyes wide with horror, clinging to him with all her strength, as if she could protect him from the sphere with her own body. "NO!"


	29. Chapter 29

**_Author's Note: Hi all, quick update this time. Thanks to the following people for reviewing the last chapter, this timely update is for you: GuesssWho, BLEACH IT WHITE, xxTeam-Masterxx,_ _MayFairy, MountainLord-92, Lexy Summers, Ahsilaa, Gerldine, irishartemis, Aietradaea, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei (x 2), SawManiac211, Lost Moon, EDZEL2, Catelly, Imorgen, Theta'sWorstNightmare and noideagirl._**

**_Special thanks to Aietradaea for reading this through for me before posting, just to make sure I have not literally lost the plot entirely. And yes, in case anybody was unsure, the first part of this chapter is a re-cap of some of the last one, from Tejana's point of view this time._**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY NINE<strong>

Imprisoned inside the thought bubble, unable to move, Tejana had felt as if she had been struck blind, deaf and dumb. Her entire being had been so full of terror and revulsion that her soul had been sent reeling, stumbling in anguish through a broken darkness that was too much for her to ever comprehend. And throughout it all, there had been the _Cruciform, _whispering incessantly inside her mind.

Then, without warning, it had all been over and soft light had pooled around her like liquid. It was pale and dim, but compared to the eternal darkness, it was radiant enough to make her feel as if her skin was being seared from her body. She wanted to scream and scream and scream, but all she could manage was a pitiful whimper, like a wounded animal. The air stirred briefly and she was being lifted. There were strong arms around her, a familiar, spicy male scent, the scraping sensation of rough braid against her cheek, but none of it seemed real, none of it made sense, not after the abysmal things she seen and heard, things that still paraded indelibly behind her tightly-closed eyelids. The arms disappeared and she was laid on the floor, the metallic surface warm and smooth beneath her head. She had no idea what had happened or where she was, but she didn't care. Automatically, she curled into a ball, desperately wishing the ground would open and swallow her up. Anything, _anything_, to erase the images in her mind, anything to make it _stop_. Somewhere deep inside, her innate stubbornness was ordering her to stop being so gutless. She had to get up, to fight as she had so many times before, to refuse to allow the _Cruciform_ to win. But to her shame, all she could do was to lie there on the floor and cry like a baby. Weak, pathetic sobs tore through her and she could do nothing to prevent them.

"Ana?"

A tremor of fear shivered along her skin at the familiar voice and she moaned, wrapping her arms even more tightly around her head.

"Ana, it's me, Koschei. It's OK, I'm here, I've got you."

_His _voice. The voice of the man she loved, the man she wanted more than anything else. But it was also the voice of the _Cruciform_, the voice of the thing inside the thought bubble that had whispered in her ears of things so vile and disgusting and depraved that the white part of her soul had recoiled in absolute horror, begging to die rather than be forced to listen to any more. But as shattering as that had been, it had not been the worst of her ordeal. The worst had been feeling the other part of her, the long-hidden dark half, responding to his voice with pleasure, rejoicing in the things he said, feeling a wild, delicious, spreading excitement, an evil, illicit craving that grew and grew and grew like a cancer inside her. Now she couldn't be sure where her light ended and her darkness began. It was all jumbled up in her mind in a terrible, formless grey mist. With a gasp, she cringed away from the sound of his voice, afraid - so very afraid – of what might happen if she continued to hear it, of what she might end up doing.

But then she felt his hands on her body, warm and reassuring, and a shock of instant recognition pulsed through her hearts as he drew her into his arms. Forcing her eyes open, she looked up into his face and realised that the voice calling her name was not the _Cruciform_. He was really there, really holding her. He had come for her, just as he had once promised he would.

_If you choose to stay, Ana, there won't be anywhere in the Universe you can go that I won't find you and bring you back..._

She buried her face in the shoulder of his hoodie, unrestrained relief and gratitude mingling with her fear and dread as the helpless, unstoppable tears continued to flow. "Koschei...oh gods, inside that _thing_...I saw...I heard..."

"I know," he murmured. And from the bleak tone in his voice, she knew instantly that there was no need to say more – he understood better than anyone else in the Universe could have. "I know, sweetheart. But it'll be all right now that I'm here. The _Cruciform_ is geared to my DNA, not yours. It can't hurt you any more."

She felt him kiss the top of her head as he cradled her fiercely in his arms and she clung to him as tightly as she could.

_Who knows how long Kelios forced him to endure that hellish thing during the Time War?_ she thought in horrified empathy. _How on Gallifrey did his mind survive undamaged? _Then, like a bolt from the blue, she remembered his murderously out-of-control behaviour on board the _Valiant _and suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps it hadn't, after all. They had all assumed his deranged, unpredictable behaviour back then had been because of the drums. But what if it hadn't been that at all? There was no doubt that the drums had crippled him in childhood, slowly turning him into the vengeful, vindictive, deadly, rage-filled psychopath her father had clashed with over and over again throughout the centuries. However, throughout his life, he had always been able to control the constant noise in his head, it had not controlled him. Never, in all the years she had known him, had his derangement had been so apparent, so evident, as it had been during the Year That Never Was. Had his prolonged exposure to the _Cruciform_ caused that final descent into absolute lunacy? And had the Doctor somehow known about it – was that why he had put the memory blocks in the Master's head, to try to preserve what was left of his sanity?

Before she could gather her confused thoughts together to make any sort of sense, she heard a deep, scathing chuckle from close by. "Is that what you think? Oh, now that _is _funny."

Tejana jumped at the harsh sound, the truth of her surroundings beginning to register with her at last. To her despair, she realised they were back before Kelios's obsidian throne, in the room that had once been the bridge of the _Cruciform_. She had tried so hard to prevent the Master from coming here, but now it seemed it had all been for nothing.

"You don't know, do you?" Kelios continued, the lash of his contempt spilling across them like acid. "She hasn't told you! All the pieces there in front of you, so very obvious, and you still haven't figured it out!"

Tejana's stared up at Kelios in panic, her stomach plummeting like a stone as it instantly hit home what his derisive words meant. Oh gods, the twisted bastard had guessed about the baby, just as John Hart had earlier. And now he was going to tell the Master, before she ever had the chance to say anything.

_No_, she thought wildly. _No, no, no, not like this, please, not like this. I was going to pick my moment, I was going to tell him so carefully, it was going to be so right, so perfect..._

"Haven't figured what out?" the Master snarled, his arms tensing around her, every muscle as hard and as unyielding as iron. "What don't I know?"

_Oh, don't...oh please don't!_

"You've been asking all the wrong questions, Koschei. If you've remembered that the Cruciform is programmed to respond only to your DNA, perhaps you should have been wondering why the thought bubble absorbed Tejana in the first place."

And there it was, the sudden understanding spreading across his face as his ever-sharp mind put two and two together, his brown eyes widening in incredulous disbelief, the breath catching painfully in his throat.

"Ana?"

For several heartbeats, she couldn't reply. Kelios was forgotten, wiped from her awareness as though he had never existed. There was only the two of them, she and the Master, locked here together in this one endless fragment of time. His eyes held hers and she couldn't look away. All at once, she felt as if she was standing on top of a huge precipice, wavering in the wind, about to lose her footing, about to fall..._Catch me, Koschei, oh, please catch me..._

"Our...son," she choked out, tears running unchecked down her cheeks, afraid, so afraid of what he was going to say, afraid he would be angry, afraid he would spoil the specialness of the moment. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Koschei. I wanted to tell you...but not like this...not like this..."

His entire body was rigid, frozen in shock. Only his eyes moved, sliding slowly from her face down to her belly.

"Our...son?" he whispered.

She nodded wordlessly. Then he put out his hand and placed it gently on her stomach. She could feel the warmth of it through the thin silk of her slave garment, his intimate touch heating her skin. His expression was the closest thing to awe she had ever seen on that arrogant face. Her own hand moved to cover his, all her anxiety vanishing as the intense emotion in his eyes swept through her. She had no need of the psychic link to read his exultation, it was all there for her to see. An answering surge of pure joy burnt in her hearts like a cleansing flame, sweeping away all trace of the foul touch of the _Cruciform_, rendering it utterly unimportant.

_Was this how it would have been between them, so long ago, if Rassilon had not cursed him with the drums? The Could-Have-Been Tejana and the Could-Have-Been Koschei, welcoming the miracle of their Could-Have-Been-Son? Had they really managed to fight Time itself and win?_

Then Kelios spoke again, his voice laden with spite, and the beautiful illusion of happiness shattered around her like a fragile glass ornament, leaving behind only the razor-sharp shards of reality.

"Such a beautiful moment! Such an occasion for celebration, a brand new branch for the Oakdown family tree. But wait...there has been no official wedding celebration, has there? No sanction from the High Council for your union, no marriage agreement between the House of Lungbarrow and the House of Oakdown. What a shame, Koschei! It seems your son will be a bastard, just like me!"

As if a switch had been thrown, Tejana could feel all the Master's joy transform back into hatred and rage, the brown eyes reverting into the cold stone she had seen so many times before, as he tore his gaze away from hers and glared up at his half-brother. In that instant, all she wanted was to slap the sneer off Kelios's darkly handsome face. _What in the name of all the gods does it matter any more? _Her son would be the last of his line, the last pure blood Time Lord. She was the only Time Lady left. When it came time for her son to mate, he would need to choose someone from another species to join with. And thus the diluting of the Time Lord bloodline would begin, out of sheer necessity. Gallifrey was gone forever and they were a dying race. Their time was almost over and soon their people would disappear from the Universe altogether. All those stupidly rigid social codes and mores that had once been so paramount on their home planet, so intrinsic to the way the Time Lords lived their lives, what were they worth now? Since the absolute devastation of the Time War, they could not be more redundant, more _irrelevant_. Nonetheless, it was apparent that to these two bitter men, both still nursing the grudge of centuries, nothing was more important, no matter how ridiculous and senseless it all was.

"Ana belongs to _me_," the Master hissed. "She's given me her birth name. She's worn my marriage flowers in her hair. She shares my life and my bed. She's my wife in every way that matters, now that Gallifrey's gone! Our son will be true-born, a pure-blood Time Lord. He will be _nothing_ like you!"

"Whatever you say," Kelios replied, giving a casual shrug. "After all, it will hardly matter to you, since you won't ever have the chance to see him."

With a chill of unreserved fear, Tejana saw the thought bubble reforming into a perfect sphere, its silver surface darkening to a pulsing crimson as it began to move inexorably towards them. This time, however, she knew that it was the Master it intended to take, reclaiming him as the heart of the _Cruciform_.

Kelios was laughing psychotically in the background. "But you can rest assured that your son will be in the best possible hands," he smirked. "Mine!"

A nightmarish vision of the future crashed through Tejana's brain: _The Master lost to her, trapped and tortured forever inside the Cruciform, driven deeper and deeper into the pitiless realms of insanity until there was nothing of him left but a gibbering madman. Her own tortuous existence held at Kelios's mercy, subject to whatever degradation he decided to inflict upon her, forced to watch as he brought up her precious son, teaching the child to mirror his own filthy, twisted beliefs, turning him into a monster in his own image. And all the while, the Cruciform, spreading devastation and death throughout the Universe, wherever Kelios chose to roam..._

"No!" she screamed, fighting to place her body between the sphere and the Master, desperately hoping it would take her again instead. She knew that further exposure to the sphere would probably kill her and, by extension, the baby. But better for them both to be dead - far, far better - than the future Kelios had planned for them. "NO!"

But the Master seized her by her upper arms and pulled her loose from him, shaking her slightly as he tried to cut through her panic.

"Listen to me, Ana," he said roughly. "You have to trust me."

She stared at him wildly, her fear so great that she could hardly take in what he was saying. _Trust him? _But she had never trusted him. She loved him, but after everything he had done, trust was the one thing she could never give him, the one thing he had always known better than to ask her for.

Then he was grasping her head with both hands and kissing her, his mouth exploring hers with his usual sensual dominance, holding her small body hard against his. But as soon as his lips touched hers, she realised this was no ordinary kiss. A surge of white light seemed to pass from his head into hers and suddenly she was reliving memories that didn't belong to her, seeing through eyes that had never been hers...

* * *

><p><em>He was still clinging unashamedly to the Doctor's hand, as though it was the only solid thing in the Universe, terrified that if he let go, he would find that the rescue was all a dream and he was still helplessly trapped within the torment of the thought bubble.<em>

_The Doctor's blue eyes were full of compassion, an expression which would usually have elicited an angry and violent reaction from him. But on this occasion, he was too weak and confused to care._

"_It's all right, Master, I've got you," the Doctor said, rubbing his back soothingly, the same way one would comfort a frightened child. "No-one will hurt you, I promise."_

_They were sitting on the cold, metal floor of the Axis, as far away from the thought bubble as they could get and still be in the same room. The gigantic sphere was still lying open, split in half like an enormous clam shell, robbed of its pearl. It looked harmless enough now, motionless and quiescent. Whatever the Doctor had done to it with his sonic screwdriver seemed to have temporarily disabled it. The Master could see soft colours dancing over the translucent surface, edged with light and shade, like broken fragments of transient dreams, as delicate and as fragile as soap bubbles. The Master shuddered from head to toe, knowing that if they were shattered dreams he was seeing, they had been stolen from inside his head._

_All around them were the remains of a small army of droids, all of them frozen in a variety of different poses. Most of them looked aggressive, as though they had been attacking when they were deactivated. From the trickles of black smoke still drifting out of their ears, the Master guessed their positronic brains had been fried by some sort of sonic disruptor, probably augmented with a frequency accelerator. _

_The younger Time Lord, Damon, was working frantically at the semi-circular control panel, system diagnostics flashing above him on the holographic view screen._

"_I told you, disconnecting him isn't enough," he exclaimed angrily. "The Cruciform has been weakened, but it still has enough of a psychic link with him to remain operational, even without him physically being contained in the thought bubble. Killing him is the only way to sever the link and fully destroy it. By allowing him to live, you're endangering everything!"_

"_No! There has to be another way, some other weakness!" the Doctor snapped. "We just have to find it!"_

"_I don't know..." Damon replied, his voice tight with frustration at the Doctor's continued refusal. It was obvious that he thought it was pointless to search for any other solution. Killing the Master would be so much easier, so much more straightforward, an instant end to the nightmare._

_The Master stirred weakly, his unerring instinct for survival screaming out in warning. Damon had made it perfectly clear just how much he hated him. If the young Time Lord decided to come for him now, there was nothing he could do to stop him. His ordeal inside the thought bubble had damaged him much too badly, both physically and mentally. His only chance was to make the Doctor listen to him. But the Doctor merely tightened his grip on him reassuringly and kept his blue eyes steadily focused on Damon. _

"_Think!" he insisted. "There's always a way! We just have to find it!"_

_The drums were pounding inside the Master's head, louder than ever before, as if the Cruciform had somehow found the volume dial and turned it up to maximum. He knew he had to get the Doctor's attention, but he couldn't seem to make his vocal chords work. Desperately, knowing his life was on the line, he tried again, forcing the sound out, past the drums and between his lips. "Psychic...pollen..."_

_At last, the Doctor's gaze flashed to meet his. "The psychic pollen? What about the psychic pollen?"_

"_Hot," the Master managed, the air leaving his lungs in a tortured gasp._

_He couldn't summon enough strength to say any more, but he didn't need to. The Doctor's eyes widened in sudden understanding, his quick mind putting two and two together, instinctively following the Master's thought processes, just as he used to when they had come up with their childish pranks back at the Academy. _

"_Of course...for psychic pollen to remain active, it has to be heated!" he said excitedly. "No wonder this ship is so oppressively muggy. Damon, what does Kelios use to maintain the temperature of the pollen?"_

"_An Xtonic crystal," Damon answered. _

_The Doctor's head shot up in angry surprise. "An Xtonic crystal? Are you insane? Do you have any idea how unstable and dangerous that is? Not to mention breaking about fifteen intergalactic laws as laid down by the Shadow Proclamation?"_

_Damon shrugged. "The Time Lords have never recognised any laws but their own, Doctor, you know that. Besides, the Universe is at war. The petty rules and regulations of the Shadow Proclamation are hardly relevant any more, are they? And the galvanic radiation from the crystal was the only way to expose the pollen to the necessary amount of heat."_

"_Somehow, we need to shut it down. We have to de-activate the psychic pollen."_

"_Impossible. The pit containing the pollen and the crystal is shielded by Fenito glass. Even if you could breach the shield to try to remove the crystal, you'd be vaporised by the radiation within seconds," Damon argued. "And even if you did manage to miraculously remove the crystal as a heat source, it would still take months, possibly years, for the psychic pollen to cool enough to cripple the Cruciform."_

_Unexpectedly, the Doctor grinned and gave him a wink, before springing to his feet and advancing across to the console, leaving the Master slumped on the ground behind him, his back propped __against the wall. _

_He almost looked as if he was dancing, the Master found himself thinking bitterly, as he fought to clear the haze obscuring his mind. Like some kind of damn pixie, full of glee, no matter how serious or life-threatening the situation was. No, not a pixie, a hobbit, that was it. This eighth incarnation of the Doctor had always reminded him of one of the hobbits out of that stupid Earth story, 'Lord of the Rings', with his untidy mop of hair and his ridiculous child-like capering. _

"_Ah, but the thing is, Damon," the Doctor was saying now, as he took over the controls. "Like Alice, I've been known to believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast!"_

_Damon stared at him in bewilderment. "Who's Alice?"_

"_Never mind," the Doctor responded. "Have you ever heard of a planet named Midnight?"_

_The young Time Lord shook his head with another blank look. "Is that where Alice lives?"_

_The Doctor scowled at him reprovingly. "Forget about Alice, would you? Midnight is a planet in the star system Xion. I've always meant to go there, but I've never got around to it. The point is, the sun of that system constantly bombards Midnight with Xtonic radiation."_

"_So?"_

"_So, the surprising thing about Midnight is that, despite absolute exposure to the sun, it's a frozen planet, covered with diamond glaciers. In fact, it's possibly where your Xtonic crystal came from in the first place."_

"_Frozen? But...how is that possible? The intense degree of heat from the galvanic radiation..."_

"_Because," the Doctor interrupted. "The thing people don't realise about Xtonic rays – except for me, of course, because I'm clever - is that they're unique, in that they have two spectrums, a positive spectrum and a negative spectrum. And the negative spectrum has endothermic properties. The rays from Xion happen to be negative spectrum rays."_

"_You're saying Xion is a _cold_ star?" Damon spluttered. "It burns _cold_? I've never heard of such a thing."_

"_Which is why you need me, of course," the Doctor answered absently. "Now, based on that educational little lecture, how do you think our toasty little parasitic friends are going to like it if I reverse the spectrum of the Cruciform's Xtonic crystal from positive to negative?"_

"_You can do that?"_

"_Oh yes, I'm the Doctor, I can do most things," he responded, pulling a lever on the console. Behind them, in the centre of the huge room, a section of the floor began to retract, revealing a glittering expanse of tiny crystals, each one glowing like a miniature star, creating a breathtakingly refulgent tapestry of light within the dim room, beneath the clear barrier of the Fenito glass. _

"_Fascinating!" the Doctor sighed, as he took it all in. "Look at you all! Aren't you just beautiful?"_

_But the Master cringed back even further, trying to make himself as small as possible, as though he was afraid the light from the psychic pollen would somehow take hold of him and draw him back into the clutches of the Cruciform._

_Snatching his eyes away from the glorious sight, the Doctor began to type urgently on the console. Overhead, data streamed across the holographic screen, line after line fitting itself together like a bizarre game of Tetris, until the entire screen was full._

"_That should do it," the Doctor said in satisfaction. Even as he spoke, the screen began to flash red and the word "WARNING!" began to scroll across it in huge letters._

"_WARNING. SYSTEMS HAVE BEEN COMPROMISED. WARNING. SYSTEMS HAVE BEEN COMPROMISED," an automatic voice began to intone loudly._

"_Better get on with it, " the Doctor grinned. "I'm guessing Kelios won't miss that little clue, even if he is slightly caught up in his negotiations with the Dalek Emperor!"_

"_LITTLE clue!" Damon muttered sarcastically, as a siren began to wail madly in the distance. "You think?"_

_The Doctor merely ignored him and strode over to the pit of psychic pollen, where he stood at the very edge, looking down through the thick glass shield at the large, clear crystal embedded at the centre of the field of shimmering diamond-like particles._

"_Doctor? Doctor!" Damon yelled over the cacophony of noise. "You shouldn't get too close to the pit. Even Fenito glass isn't one hundred percent as a shield against the effects of the pollen. DOCTOR!"_

_The Doctor didn't answer. The light seemed to pool around his feet, gleaming and iridescent. And for just a few, fleeting seconds, the Master could see a reflection in the shining surface of the Fenito glass. It was looking back at the Doctor, just like the reflection in a mirror, but it was a different face altogether. A short, odd-looking little man, much older than the Doctor, wearing a tweed jacket and a red bow tie, with receding sandy hair and a malicious smirk on his face. The Master felt a shiver crawling up his spine at the sight, a strange sixth sense telling him that this was some sort of weird premonition, something in the Doctor's life that was yet to be. But then the Doctor shook himself, like a wet dog shaking drops of water from his back, and the image quivered and vanished, to be replaced by the Time Lord's own familiar reflection._

"_Let's get this done," the Doctor gritted out, as though nothing had happened, and the Master couldn't be sure whether he had seen the peculiar image or not._

_Reaching out with his sonic screwdriver, he pointed it at the Xtonic crystal. Again, the Master heard the high-pitched buzzing sound, as the invisible beam of the screwdriver began to penetrate the glass shield. At first, nothing seemed to happen. But then, the translucent crystal seemed to dim, as though clouds were forming inside it. A steady white mist crept across its transparent surface, turning it opaque. And, one by one, the glittering points of light nearest the crystal began to go out._

"_It's working," Damon cried excitedly. "The pollen is reverting to a dormant state."_

_As they watched, the condition began to spread like wildfire throughout the entire pit, thousands upon thousands of the tiny lights extinguishing in a wave of destruction, leaving behind a grey, inert sludge. Spider-webs of frost began to form on the inside of the glass shield, growing and expanding like pale, beautiful flowers. The temperature in the Axis began to drop dramatically, going from extreme humidity to sharp, biting cold, in a matter of a few seconds. The smooth, metal floor beneath the Master was suddenly icy enough to hurt, even through the protective barrier of his clothes; and the exhaled breath of all three Time Lords hung whitely in the air before them, condensing in the frigid air. _

_Damon glanced around in alarm as feathery ribbons of glittering ice began to crackle up the walls, coating the instrument panels in an arctic shroud of white. "Whatever you've done, even the Fenito glass can't contain this, Doctor!" he exclaimed. "It's not just the psychic pollen – the entire ship is going to freeze!"_

"_Which is why we're getting back to the TARDIS right now!" the Doctor retorted, bounding back over the Master and sliding his arm around him, endeavouring to get him to his feet. "Help him!"_

_Damon hesitated for a moment, unwillingness in every line of his body. But then he gave in and hurried over to sling the Master's other arm around his neck, helping the Doctor to support the injured Time Lord's weight._

"_No!" the Master rasped. "We can't leave yet."_

"_What are you talking about?" the Doctor snapped, still trying to make him move. "Believe me, Master, now is not the time to be difficult!"_

_The Master shook his head, his features twisting in fierce determination, the pride and the hate welling up inside him as he thought of his half-brother's sneering face. "The Moment is mine, Doctor. It was a part of the little that's left of my soul and he stole it from me. We have to get it back!"_

* * *

><p>Everything was whirling, the white light fading, and she was back in the Master's arms, still kneeling in front of Kelios's obsidian throne. Only a few seconds had passed during the memory transfer. His hands were still clasped around her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth hovering just above hers, as if reluctant to end the kiss, his brown eyes connecting intensely with hers.<p>

"Trust me, Ana," he murmured again. "Just as I trust you."

With that, he pushed her sharply away from him, out of the path of the oncoming sphere, sending her sprawling across the ground to safety. Then he climbed lithely to his feet and stood facing Kelios, completely ignoring the pulsating orb that loomed behind him, his handsome face stretching into a deadly, sardonic smile.

"You're a fool, _brother_!" he mocked. "You always have been and you always will be. You're so eager to point out the things I've missed. But perhaps there were some pieces here today that _you_ should have been putting together!"

With that, he stepped backwards and vanished through the skin of the thought bubble, intentionally allowing the glutinous sphere to absorb him. Tejana gave a shriek of anguished protest, but it was too late, he was gone.

Immediately, the entire _Cruciform _shook, as though it was trembling in ecstasy. _Like an addict getting high on their drug of choice_, Tejana thought in horror, struck afresh by the awful abomination of the thing Damon had helped to create so long ago. Even as she watched, the dust and grime and the filth of the ages vanished from the walls, seared away by an incredible surge of psychic power, as the _Cruciform _shed its ancient disguise as the Temple of the Pythia and renewed itself in its true form, rising from its own ashes like the legendary phoenix. Gleaming metal walls shone like new, scanner screens and data terminals sprang to life, and long-dead instrument panels lit up all around the room, every single one of the ship's systems coming back on line.

Kelios stood, his face contorted in fierce triumph, his arms spread wide, as if to embrace his creation. "And so it begins!" he cried. "Lady Tejana, you are privileged indeed to witness this moment in history, the last moment of freedom the Universe will ever see. Behold, the _Cruciform _rises again, the key to my ultimate victory. Your precious life-mate is the one who is a fool, too stupid and arrogant even to realise when he's lost."

"That's because he doesn't know _how_ to lose!" Tejana retorted proudly. "He's been knocked down over and over again in his life, but every single time he's _come back_, stronger than before."

"Not this time," Kelios sneered. "This time it's really over for him and for you, my lady. Let me prove it to you. The _Cruciform _has been slumbering for so long, and now it's hungry...so _very_ hungry. It draws its power from the darkness in my brother's mind. So I will give it something juicy to feed on."

Giving her an evil smile, he strode over to one of the instrument panels and began punching some buttons. Alarmed, Tejana scrabbled backwards, only to find herself coming up against John Hart's legs. Looking up, she saw that the ex-Time Agent still had his gun pointed at her, but his eyes were focused on her face, raw and savage with determination. With a faint stir of hope, she realised he was still stubbornly fighting the stasis. Kelios might write human minds off as pathetic and easy to control, but she doubted he had ever come across a human quite like John Hart before.

Still smirking, the Shabogan turned back to face her, his expression one of supreme confidence. "Watch, Lady Tejana," he told her maliciously, gesturing towards the thought bubble. "Watch and see what he sees."

A kaleidoscope of confused images danced and swirled across the surface of the sphere, a jumble of faces and places whizzing past at light speed. Tejana caught glimpses of herself in the Doctor's TARDIS, laughing with Ten at one of his ridiculous jokes; watching television in her tiny flat in Cardiff with Owen, the exasperated expression on his face, "No, Star Trek is _not _meant to be a comedy, Tejana!"; picnicking by the river with Turlough, stretched out on a blanket beside him, looking up at the blue, blue sky; the Master holding her close to his chest, carrying her over the threshold of their TARDIS on the Eye of Orion.

"Every single one of your memories, drawn from your mind while you were held within the thought bubble and stored at the heart of the _Cruciform,_" Kelios explained with a nasty grin.

_So what? _Tejana wanted to ask, unsure what significance these fleeting snapshots of her life could have to the _Cruciform_. But even before she could speak, Kelios's purpose suddenly became heart-wrenchingly clear. The images flowing across the bubble slowed and she found herself looking at a dim room, lit only by a desk lamp. But the light was more then enough to see the two people passionately embracing on the couch, illuminating every facet of their ardent love-making. Her own face, alight with desire, her own voice calling out Jack's name, over and over again.

_I will give it something juicy to feed on...watch and see what he sees..._

"No," she gasped, knowing only too well the bitter, overwhelming rage that would explode inside the Master as the lustful, traitorous images sank into his mind, his pain and anger fuelled by his terrible, poisonous hatred of Jack. "No, you can't."

"I already have," Kelios taunted. "He sees it all. Every kiss, every caress, every last piece of your betrayal. Can't you feel it?"

Sure enough, the very air around them seemed to swirl with dark, furious energy. Tejana trembled at the unbelievable strength of it, crouching back against Hart's legs, like a small animal sheltering against a storm.

"I didn't betray him!" she yelled. "It wasn't like that!"

"It matters not. The power builds!" the Shabogan gloated, his dark eyes gleaming with exultation. "With you and your child as catalysts for his pain, the potential of the _Cruciform_ is unlimited! Soon, nothing will stand against me. My conquest of the Universe will be assured!"

There was a deep rumbling somewhere beneath them and the _Cruciform _began to shake again. Only now the quaking was more intense, as if the long-buried ship was trying to shake itself free of the mountain that entombed it.

"Tick tock, goes the clock," the Master's voice laughed suddenly, echoing creepily around the vast room.

For the first time, Kelios seemed to hear it. He whirled around wildly, trying to track the source of the sound. The floor was heaving under his feet, making it difficult for him to stand upright. The entire ship was lifting itself. Tejana could imagine the dirt and boulders streaming off its sides like water, erupting down the mountain outside in a spectacular landslide as the _Cruciform_ slowly rose to the surface of Mnemosyne.

"No!" Kelios screamed. "NO! What are you doing? I haven't ordered this!"

"Tick tock, goes the clock, too late now to run," the Master's voice crooned, the sound circling Kelios, mockingly changing direction in mid-sentence, like a ventriloquist throwing his voice to different corners of the room. "Tick tock, goes the clock, _the time of Chaos comes_!"

"You are my creation! I _made_ you!" Kelios howled, clinging to the control console to maintain his balance, desperately trying to type some commands into one of the terminals. "You will obey me!"

Mad laughter greeted his words, mingling with the churning upheaval of the ship. Caught up in the confusion, Tejana nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt an arm slip around her. With a gasp, she realised it was Hart, crouching down beside her. With Kelios so distracted, he had finally managed to break free of the stasis field.

"What the hell is going on, Princess?" he growled.

"I don't know," she responded frantically. "Something's gone wrong with Kelios's control of the _Cruciform_. I think it's breaking free of him!"

And then, at the end of the room, they saw the black-dressed form appear in the doorway, advancing towards them, heedless of the pandemonium he walked through, smiling terribly as he came.

"Blondie!" Hart exclaimed in shock. "But how did he do that? How did he escape from the thought bubble without us seeing him?"

Staring at the familiar figure coming closer and closer, Tejana's throat went painfully dry. "He didn't," she whispered.

Hart's head jerked around in puzzlement. "What?"

"He didn't," she said again, fear rising inside her like a tidal wave. "Because that isn't the Master."


	30. Chapter 30

**_Author's Note: Howdy! Thanks so much to the people who reviewed since I posted the last chapter: MayFairy, EmmaMarie, Aietradaea, GuesssWho, Theta'sWorstNightmare, noideagirl, MountainLord-92, Lexy Summers, SawManiac211, Ahsilaa, Geraldine, sometimetheydontthinkitbe, Imorgen, Lost Moon, EDZEL2, Lostykitty, Catelly, irishartemis and Dryu (x 2)._  
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**_Content warning: A bit of Kelios!Whump in this one. But I'm guessing you all saw that coming, right?  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY<strong>

_Change._

That was the key word, the Master told himself grimly, his muscles tightening as he felt the thought bubble gliding up behind him. The word of the day, the year, the century, even...

Kelios had even used it himself, casually thrown it out there without ever realising just how significant it was. _But I see you have not changed as much as all that...just how vulnerable has she made you, brother?_

The Shabogan was so caught up in his victory, so immersed in the heady, exhilarating triumph of finally forcing his hated father's true-born son to kneel before him, that he couldn't even see it, despite his undeniably brilliant mind. He had so gleefully taunted the Master with not picking up on the obvious about Ana's pregnancy, never dreaming that he too was missing something – something that was right there in the room with him, something crying out to be noticed, something so very, very important.

But the Master had known it, as soon as he stepped on board the _Cruciform_ again, as soon as he sensed the shadow-creature that dogged his heels, immediately perceiving the truth of the thing slithering along the metal floors behind him, matching his every movement so perfectly, following him in slavering, breathless anticipation. And that was when he had formulated his plan, had made the only decision he could under the circumstances, as risky as it was.

Deliberately, he stepped backwards, right into the clutches of the _Cruciform_, and allowed the thought bubble to absorb him. It was the last thing in the Universe he wanted to do – if there had been any other way, any other chance, he would have taken it. But there wasn't. He had one last glimpse of Tejana's anguished face, fading into a red mist, her kiss still burning on his lips as the pulsing skin of the sphere resealed itself, reforming around his body like a glutinous prison. He could see from her tear-filled eyes that she still didn't understand what he was doing. But he had to trust that she soon would. She was her father's daughter. She would see it. She had to. Because he was not just trusting her with his life, but with everything he was, everything he would ever be.

_She was her father's daughter, but he was his father's son..._

Cold fingers of doubt tore through him at the thought, but he thrust them away. No, he couldn't think of that now, couldn't falter. He had to believe that his plan would work.

Slowly, the jelly-like substance shifted and sucked around him, rotating his body into a cross-shaped position at the centre of the sphere. And then it came, just as he had been expecting, the agonising pain like a billion red-hot needles being stabbed into his consciousness, as the isomorphic control systems built into the _Cruciform_ locked on to his mind_, _searching out the brainwaves for which they had been programmed so long ago. The intricate security protocols that had been created to restrict and contain the darkness drawn from deep inside him by the psychic pollen. The psychic chains that had bound the awesome power of the _Cruciform_ to Kelios's will, to shape as he chose.

The Master felt the fail-safe systems recognising his DNA, zeroing in on him as the same man that had lain at the heart of the ship during the Time War, the man for whom they had so specifically been designed.

_Except that he wasn't the same man any more._

The tiny cerebral probes sifted painfully through his brain, just as he had known they would, delicately exploring the edges of the yawning hole where the incessant beating of the drums had once been, like a myriad of curious, bewildered fingers, trying to rationalise the unexpected psychic anomaly they had encountered. And, instead of fighting the incursion into his mind, he opened himself as widely as he could, proudly flaunting the hard-won silence inside him like a trophy. The probes delved even further, pushing harder and more painfully, only to find more aberrations, more differences, things that had not previously existed in his mind back during the Time War. Things that, until now, he had been almost unaware of himself...or at least unwilling to admit to.

_Love. A bewildering, unfamiliar, inexplicable, complicated emotion. One that he had never wanted and had always despised, one that he wasn't even sure he understood any more after so many years of hatred, but one that was there nonetheless. The intense, gut-tightening feeling he got every single time he woke to find Tejana's small, warm body curled against him; so much more than just sexual desire - although that too always blazed there, a need like an unquenchable fire – but most of all, the poignant knowledge that after so many centuries of being the outsider, being the renegade, being the despised outcast, in her hearts he had finally found somewhere to belong, somewhere to call home. His life-mate. His wife, in every way that counted. As long as he kept her sheltered and protected, made sure she stayed at his side, away from the Doctor and Captain Freak and anyone else who might take her from him, he knew he need never be alone again. And that was something he was prepared to fight for, tooth and nail, whatever it took. Moreover, now there was also the added ammunition Kelios had so unwittingly given him – the heart-wrenching knowledge of his son, growing inside her, the fierce, overwhelming awareness that he would do anything in the Universe to keep his child safe from harm._

Once the isomorphic systems had confirmed his DNA, they did their best to complete the connection, sinking deeply into his mind like countless microscopic hooks, intent on achieving the aim they had been designed for, binding the darkness inside his mind to Kelios's control. But back when the _Cruciform_ had been created, the Technician had used the Matrix technology to analyse the Master's brainwaves with exact precision. The control systems were not programmed to cope with unanticipated anomalies. Therefore, when the link finally closed, there were fatal weaknesses in the security protocols, unforeseen loopholes, gaps where the original template did not quite match up.

_Escape hatches_.

Agony wracked his body and a surge of black energy swirled throughout the sphere. He could feel the shadow creature shaking itself inside his head, straining at the chains that held it, reaching hungrily for the freedom that was now so close. All that was needed was for Kelios to be foolish enough to attempt to use the power of the ship, to try to manipulate the thought bubble in some way. Somehow, knowing his half-brother, he didn't think he would have long to wait.

All around him, the inner skin of the sphere seemed to come alive, a stream of shimmering, silvery pictures flowing past him like a river. A river of memories, he realised. Tejana's memories, all of them, both happy and sad, looking back across the entire span of her life. All her different incarnations, growing up on Gallifrey, travelling with the Doctor, living on Trion with Turlough, fighting in the Time War, working at Torchwood, travelling with the Master himself. So many contrasting faces, so many varied locations, so many divergent images. And nearly all of them painful to him, because seeing them like this brought home to him how few of them contained him, a bitter reminder that their lives would have been so different, if it hadn't been for his damned brother.

And then the river slowed and stopped, pooling into one particular memory, the thought bubble drawing him deep inside it, as if he had been there all along, from the beginning. He found himself standing in a darkened room. There was a large desk in front of him, softly lit by a shaded lamp. A tiny golden orb hung in the air, rotating gently, bathing the ceiling in a breathtaking display of coloured light, music pouring from it in a magnificent cascade of melody.

Behind the desk was a low, ragged couch. And on the couch, he could see two figures wrapped in each others arms, entangled in a passionate embrace. To his immediate disgust, he recognised the man's tall, well-muscled form, the soft, multi-coloured light reflecting in rainbows across the tanned skin of his naked back as he lay on top of his smaller partner. _ Jack Harkness_. Captain Freak. The human the Master hated more than any other, which was really saying something when it came to that degenerate race of mutated chimpanzees.

The Freak was groaning in pleasure, his mouth and hands moving sensually over his partner's slender body. Then, as he shifted his position, the Master saw the tumbled black curls spread out on the couch beneath his enemy, heard the familiar voice, husky with desire, "Jack! Oh, yes, Jack, yes..."

And a bolt of realisation went through him like a javelin of pain. The ivory-pale limbs that were wrapped around Harkness, the full breasts his mouth was exploring, the lips that were crying out his name...they belonged to Ana – _his_ Ana - in her previous incarnation. For a brief moment, his brain seemed to shut down in shock. Ana had told him she had never made love with Harkness, had promised that she had never gone beyond a few, meaningless kisses and hugs with him. The knowledge had always been something the Master treasured, something that set him apart from the other man, knowing that he had shared something with her that Handsome Jack never, ever would or could, no matter how much he wanted to. But she had lied, for here she was, right in front of him, giving everything that rightfully belonged to the Master to that disgusting freak.

Uncontrollable fury exploded inside him, a white rage intermingled with an incredible, blinding jealousy. More than anything, he wanted to step forward and rip Harkness away from her and shred his flesh into tiny pieces. Tejana was his. _HIS! _She would _always_ be his_. _He wanted to hurt them both, kill them, wipe them from the face of the Universe – Harkness for daring to take what would never belong to him; Tejana for the enormity of her betrayal. But this was just a memory. It had already happened. He couldn't move, couldn't change anything, couldn't even speak, but was forced to watch it all instead, every last heart-wrenching detail as another man made love to his life-mate. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that Tejana's right ankle was smooth and unblemished, logically telling him that this had happened before he marked her in The Matrix. But right then, he didn't care. Right then, it was happening in front of him, here and now, every touch, every moan taunting and goading him, as their mounting passion rose to a crescendo.

In that instant of climax, seeing the exquisite sexual pleasure on Tejana's face - pleasure that belonged to _him_ - a wave of black, devastating anger erupted from him, his head thrown back in a silent scream of ultimate rage. Deep in the core of the ship, five million grains of psychic pollen began to feed, drawing untold strength from the dark emotion burning inside him. And the shadow-creature, the living manifestation of the evil in his mind, began to stretch; slowly pulling free, one by one, of the chains that bound it to Kelios's control.

Somewhere in the distance, the Master could hear the _Cruciform_ laughing and somehow the laughter was his own.

"_Tick tock, goes the clock, too late now to run. Tick tock, goes the clock, the Time of Chaos comes!"_

* * *

><p>Tejana watched the creature that looked like the Master stride up the hall towards them, that awful smile spread across its handsome face, every lithe muscle of its body eager and quivering with anticipation, and both her hearts clenched in fear. As it came closer, she saw that the black hoodie it wore was perfectly whole and unmarked, showing no evidence of the jagged tears and bloodstains left behind from the lamia attack. She had no idea what was going on, but with every fibre of her being, she knew that - no matter how identical they appeared - this...<em>thing<em>...was not the man she loved. Where it walked, the quaking of the ship calmed, forming a safe pathway for the newcomer through the turmoil. Power seemed to radiate from the creature, filling the air with invisible, choking energy, making it difficult to breathe.

Kelios saw the apparition coming too and his dark eyes widened in shock. From the astonished look on his face, Tejana guessed he too assumed that the Master had somehow escaped from the thought bubble, just as John Hart had. But then the Shabogan seemed to sense the unearthly atmosphere the thing brought with it, like a gust of air from a long-unopened tomb.

"You're not my brother!" he snarled, drawing himself up to his full height, his gaze narrow with threat. "What is this? Who the hell are you?"

The thing stopped in its tracks some distance away from him and laughed loudly. "Don't you know? Don't you recognise me, oh great Creator?" it asked mockingly.

Tejana shuddered. It was the Master's voice, perfect in every cadence, down to the last nuance. The Master's voice with exactly the same cold, emotionless inflection it had held back on the _Valiant_ when he had ordered the destruction of Japan.

_Oh gods, what was happening? What WAS this thing?_

"Don't play games with me!" Kelios roared. "You will answer me! Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Slowly, deliberately, the creature's head tilted to one side, still smiling, its eyes swivelling until they found Tejana. Her hand came up to cover her mouth in quivering revulsion. She had seen the Master make that very same menacing gesture a hundred times before, like a predator surveying the helpless prey it was about to devour. Suddenly, she was very glad of the comforting human warmth of Hart's arm around her, anchoring her to reality.

"Would you like to enlighten him, my love?" the Master-thing inquired, its gaze locking irresistably on to hers. Mesmerised, she stared back, a thunderous roaring in her ears as she drowned in the familiar beautiful chocolate-brown colour. All at once, it was as if she was back in the thought bubble, immobile and trapped as a terrible despair rose up to suffocate her.

_Fire...blood...war, insanity and death...swirling around her like a deadly whirlpool, sucking her down into eternal night..._

And that was when she finally understood exactly what she was looking at, exactly what was standing in front of her. Every dark thought the Master had ever had throughout his long, damaged, broken life; every corrupt, depraved, murderous impulse; every vile, heart-stopping nightmare; every vicious, villanous action; all rolled into one and made flesh – pure, unadulterated evil.

"Oh, you fool," she whispered, her stricken glance turning towards Kelios. "What have you done?"

"What are you talking about?" Kelios demanded.

"You never understood the Matrix technology, did you?" she replied numbly, the sheer horror of it stealing her breath away. "After all, how could you? You're not a Time Lord, you're just a Shabogan. The Matrix was forever closed to you. You never realised what it was that Damon did."

Kelios scowled, his jaw jutting out dangerously at the insult to his birth contained in her words, his obsession making him deaf to everything else she was trying to tell him. "The Matrix? Why should I care about that pathetic, mangled mess of Time Lord circuitry, when what I was building was so much greater, so much more powerful?" he sneered.

"Damon used the Matrix technology to map the Master's mind! Completely and exactly, right down to the finest detail, with absolute precision!" Tejana responded, her gaze returning in sick realisation to the creature waiting so gleefully for her to explain. "And then he used that map to create the isomorphic systems you rely on to control the psychic pollen."

The Shobogan glared at her blankly. "So?"

"So, the Master has _changed_ since then, you idiot!" she screamed, appalled at his obtuseness. "He's lost the drums in his head. His brainwaves won't be anything like what they were back then. And The Matrix was destroyed along with Gallifrey, it's no longer around to compensate! Once you absorbed him into the thought-bubble, once you used the pollen to raise the dark side of his psyche, your isomorphic security protocols ceased to function."

Kelios looked as if she had just shoved a knife into his belly. He whirled back to stare at the replica of the Master, all the colour draining from his face. "You mean...?"

"I _mean_, you've just used the psychic pollen to gather up every single scrap of darkness in the Master's soul – the same limitless darkness that was responsible for the Nightmare Child, _and_ the Skaro Degradations, _and _the Horde of Travesties _and_ the bloody Moment itself – and you've set it free!" Tejana cried. "It's not intangible or incorporeal any more, Kelios, not just some bad dream you can manipulate as you choose. It's becoming real, transmuting into flesh and blood before your very eyes, and you don't have a hope in hell of controlling it."

In response to her words, the thing that looked like the Master gave a nasty sneer and bowed gracefully. "The Lord of Nightmares, at your service," it grinned, as though they had just given it a standing ovation. "Or, as I prefer to be called, the Chaos-Master."

"NO!" Kelios howled, an edge of madness spiralling through his voice. "I've waited too long for this, do you hear me? _Too long! _This is my hour of vengeance. My chance to show my worth, to prove that I'm better than any damn Time Lord could ever be. I don't care what the hell you are. The _Cruciform_ is mine. I control it and no-one else!" With that, he leapt for one of the consoles and began wrestling desperately with the controls. "Security program, activate! I said ACTIVATE!"

The Chaos-Master began to laugh, the same evil laughter that had once echoed through the bad dreams of every person on planet Earth. Tejana felt sickness rising in her throat like acid. She thought of Mother Hulde, could hear the gentle voice, cracked with age, as the old woman had recited the prophecy of the Ruach: "In the Time of Chaos there will come a man of blood from beyond the stars, travelling in a blue box, and with him will be a woman with hair of flame. And in the hands of the woman will rest the fate of the man. And in the hands of the man rests the power to save or damn the entire world."

_The Time of Chaos...the end, or the beginning, no-one knows..._

Oh gods, she and the Master had been so sure that Kelios was the threat - that the bogey-man from their past would be the one to steal their future. But it was not about Kelios at all and never had been. He was nothing, totally irrelevant. It was about _them_, the two of them, the man of blood and the woman with the hair of flame.

_The power to save or damn the entire world..._

The eyes of the Chaos-Master glittered with sardonic amusement, pools of darkness in that oh-so-familiar face as he watched Kelios frantically typing command after command into the data terminals. "You never did get it, did you, _brother_?" it sniggered. "You never did figure out just how worthless you really are. Perhaps if the Technician was here, as he was during the Time War, you would have a fighting chance to stop me, to re-establish the security protocols. But he's not, is he? And without a Time Lord to help you, you're useless, powerless, a _nobody_...nothing more than a pathetic, low-life, half-blood Shabogan."

Kelios swung back towards the Chaos-Master, his face contorted in desperation and rage, and Tejana saw the sanity wink out in his eyes as something fundamental snapped inside him. "Shut up! Shut your goddamned mouth! I was _always_ better than you! I came first, not you! The House of Oakdown was _my _inheritance, not yours," he screamed, frothing at the mouth. His twisted mind was so submerged in his own long-ago grievances that he no longer seemed to remember that it wasn't actually his brother he was confronting. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all! I'll call the Lich to destroy you!"

"The Lich are all gone," the Chaos-Master responded maliciously. "They are a creature of instinct. They abandoned this ship as soon as its heart stepped on board once more. Besides, they have business of their own with the humans down on the plains. You should choose your allies with more care, brother. You didn't really think they could compete with the power of the _Cruciform_, did you?"

With that, the shadow creature flung out its left hand towards Kelios. Tejana felt the air quiver and then the Shabogan was flying backwards at an incredible rate of speed, as though he had been struck by an invisible sledgehammer. There was a harrowing, bone-crunching smash as he slammed into the metal wall, before sliding down it to land in a crumpled pile.

"Holy shit!" Hart muttered incredulously in Tejana's ear, his arm tightening reflexively around her in shock.

Tejana couldn't answer; she felt as if she was paralysed. That gesture the creature had used – it was the same one the Master had used whenever he fired his lightning bolts of life-energy after his botched resurrection. _So familiar_...everything about him, his face, his voice, the way he moved, all of it physically just the same as the man she loved.

_It's not him, _she reminded herself, repeating the words in her head like a mantra. _It's not him!_

Doggedly, refusing to give up, Kelios climbed to his feet. Blood poured from his nose in a scarlet ribbon. The look of bewilderment on his face was so profound that, if it had been anyone else, Tejana would have felt sorry for him. The _Cruciform_ was the only weapon he had ever had. He had poured his life and soul into the ship and had never believed he would need anything else. But now that his creation had turned against him, he had nothing left with which to fight.

Putting one foot in front of another, he staggered forwards, as if in his demented state he was intending to attack the Chaos-Master with his bare hands, just as he and his friends had beaten the young Koschei so long ago in Low Town. "Kill you, little brother!" he snarled ferally, his words slurring almost unrecognisably. "Kill you!"

The Chaos-Master merely smirked, watching the Shabogan stumble along, as a cat watches a particularly amusing mouse. Then, just before Kelios reached it, it flicked out its hand again and the injured man rocketed backwards until he impacted bloodily with the opposite wall this time.

_Stay down, _Tejana begged Kelios silently, unable to bear the sight of the unequal combat any further. _Oh stars, just stay down!_

But Kelios couldn't. His hatred wouldn't allow him to relent. Despite what appeared to be a shattered ribcage, he snarled like a rabid dog and began to crawl on his hands and knees towards his enemy. What he thought he would do when he got there, Tejana couldn't even begin to imagine. But it hardly mattered, since before he had even got halfway, he flew up into the air and hung there like a slab of meat on a butcher's hook, totally incapacitated, the blood dripping slowly from his wounds to the floor.

The Chaos-Master walked over to stand directly beneath him, its white-blonde hair gleaming like platinum, its arms calmly crossed as it glanced up. "Dear me, brother, you're not looking so good," it said with mock sympathy. "Perhaps there's something we can do to resolve this. Oh, I know...why don't you _beg_?"

Kelios let out a strangled squawk of refusal. The Chaos-Master's eyes narrowed and it snapped its fingers. An orange-red haze surrounded Kelios, rippling like a sheet of flame, blazing like the Gallifreyan sky as the sun sank to its rest at the end of the day. The Shabogan screamed in inutterable agony.

"I said _beg_!" the Chaos-Master repeated coldly. "Beg for me to let you die, bastard!"

Kelios continued to shriek wordlessly, the colour of the flames deepening to blood-red around him as the intensity of the torture escalated. Tejana wanted to put her hands to her ears to close out the awful sound, but somehow she couldn't. She was the last Time Lady of Gallifrey. Somehow, out of respect for all the long years that had gone before, and out of a strange sort of pity, she knew it was her duty to witness the execution of the last Shabogan.

"BEG!" the Chaos-Master insisted.

And at last, as the pain became too much, the word came, tearing out of Kelios's twisted mouth like a blasphemy. "PLEASE!"

The answering smile that spread across the Chaos-Master's face was the most chilling thing Tejana had ever seen.

_It's not him! _she told herself, tears of denial rolling unnoticed down her cheeks. _It's not him!_

"I will grant your request, brother, since you asked so nicely," it said in the Master's most cutting voice. "You're not a Time Lord. You should have been dead centuries ago. So then, let us see you die now!"

At the words, the glowing crimson fire evaporated from around Kelios's body and he dropped like a stone, tumbling to lie on his back, sprawled at the Chaos-Master's black-booted feet. His skin was undulating obscenely, as if something dreadful was crawling beneath the thin covering, burrowing its way to the surface. As Tejana watched in horror, huge white maggots began to chew their way out of the Shabogan's body, as if he was already a corpse. All the unnatural life-energy he had stolen from so many over the years had now dissipated, leaving him to rot like the shrivelled husk he really was. He continued to scream in mortal agony, over and over again, but suddenly all Tejana could see was Corin's bright, youthful, animated face.

_He deserves this. _The cold thought came from nowhere, stabbing through the back of her mind like an ice pick, shredding any sympathy she might have felt. _It's justice, that's all._

She had no idea what came after death. Jack had told her there was nothing, just a cold, dark, empty void. For herself, she preferred to hope he was somehow mistaken, that somewhere out there was a place where she would eventually find all the people she had loved and lost. But, in Kelios's case, she couldn't help wondering if some sort of terrible hell awaited, populated with all the wandering phantoms of the people he had killed, waiting for him to cross over to their plane of existence, so that they could have their revenge.

As if hearing her thoughts, his dying eyes turned blindly towards her, full of pain and centuries of hurt and unremitting bitterness. "I...just wanted...my turn in the sun," he gasped. "Just once...was that..so very wrong?"

Tejana did not answer. She had nothing left to say. She could not feel sympathy for him, but she could feel pity. Pity for a young boy so shamed and mistreated that he was driven mad, for a life that had been wasted in obsession, a brilliant mind warped and corrupted. It was all so wrong, so very pointless. Then the light left his eyes and his body instantly began to decay and crumble into dust, nothing but an ancient skeleton caving in on itself.

Even before Tejana could register the fact that he was dead, she felt herself being abruptly lifted, and she realised that John Hart had snatched her into his arms and was sprinting for the door with everything he had, his powerful legs pumping like steel pistons, in a calculated effort to escape while the Chaos-Master's attention was distracted elsewhere. She could feel his heart pounding madly under her cheek; could hear his breath rasping in and out as he forced himself to his maximum exertion. But it was never going to be enough - the door was too far away and, although her weight was only minimal, carrying her was still slowing him down.

Unhurriedly, the Chaos-Master turned from Kelios's desiccated corpse, his head on one side again as he stared down the hall at them. All at once, Hart's legs seemed to go from under him, as if he had tripped on something that wasn't there, and the two fugitives crashed heavily to the ground. Tejana found herself skidding along the smooth, polished floor, rolling instinctively to protect her stomach and the baby from the impact, all the breath knocked out of her.

"And just where do you think you are going with my wife?" came the silky enquiry.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who took the trouble to review since the last chapter - The Mouse's Rose, Lexy Summers, noideagirl, MayFairy, EmmaMarie, GuesssWho, Theta'sWorstNightmare, MountainLord-92, Aietradaea, SawManiac211, Ahsilaa, irishartemis, Lost Moon, XxCoffee-and-CreamxX, Geraldine, Dryu and Son of Whitebeard.  
><strong>_

_**Some sexual references and themes of implied violence in this chapter. Usual drill, you no like, you no read, okey doke?  
><strong>_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY ONE<strong>

Dizzily, Tejana raised her head, trying to see what had happened to Hart. All she could hear in the background was the steady, menacing tread of a pair of black boots approaching down the long expanse of polished floor. For a few, sickening instants, an image flashed across her mind of those same boots ruthlessly kicking Tabor in the head back on Gallifrey. Pushing the thought away, she struggled to sit up.

Hart was lying on the floor, not very far away. He was on his back, his body oddly splayed, an agonised expression twisting his face. He looked exactly like someone who was pinned to the floor by an excruciatingly heavy weight, pressing down on his chest and slowly crushing him to death. But she could see nothing above him except thin air.

The black boots came to a stop beside him and a dark shadow fell across his face.

"You know, Captain Hart, you're really starting to get on my nerves," the Chaos-Master said smoothly.

"Really?" Hart gritted out, still managing to load his voice with his usual arrogant sarcasm, despite his evident agony. "And here's me thinking we were getting to be best buddies. BFFs, even!"

The Chaos-Master gave a dark chuckle. "Oh, you're such a funny man. Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humour, though. You may as well make the most of it. It's a bit hard to laugh when you're dead. The only question is: how am I going to do it?" The creature tapped its chin thoughtfully as it pondered. "I know!" it exclaimed, gesturing with its hand. Hart screamed as he rotated helplessly on the floor like a spinning top. "How about I tear your body in four while you're still alive and send a piece of it to decorate every corner of the room? It's a quaint human custom – I believe they call it quartering. D'you think that would be an appropriate punishment for trying to steal my wife, not once, but twice? Or should I think of something even more painful?"

Tejana knew she had to do something. She and Hart had an uncertain friendship at best, but she couldn't just sit there and let him get killed. Despite everything, he_ had_ tried to save her, instead of simply leaving her behind when he ran for the door. Besides, they had made a deal, and she always kept her promises.

"I'm not your wife!" she intervened, her voice strong and contemptuous as she spoke up, her gaze fixed challengingly on the Chaos-Master's face.

In response, the creature's attention instantly switched from Hart back to her, the cold, hard brown eyes moving to trail across her face and down her body. It was what she had hoped would happen, but the intent look in those eyes still sent an icy shudder up her spine.

"Not my wife?" it repeated mockingly. "Oh, come on now, my beautiful Ana, let's be serious. You've told me your true name, you've worn my marriage flowers in your hair. How can you say you're not my wife?"

"I told _him_ my true name! I wore _his_ flowers in my hair!" she snarled. "The_ real _Master. Not you! _Never_ you!"

"Now you're just playing word games, little girl!" the Chaos-Master scoffed, walking across and standing over her. "We are the same, he and I. We are one. And you are mine."

_Little girl...he had always called her that, she remembered, his taunting name for her throughout the long centuries, before she had shown him in The Matrix that she was as far from a little girl as it was possible to be..._

"Don't kid yourself!" she said roughly, climbing to her feet and facing the creature in sheer defiance. "You're nothing but the smallest part of him, stolen from his mind with a tangle of circuitry and a bunch of parasitic psychic pollen! I knew you weren't him the moment you walked through the door."

A sly grin touched the Chaos-Master's mouth. "Is that right? But that was then and this is now. I'm growing stronger by the minute, drawing energy not just from his mind, but from your memories as well, absorbed into the thought bubble. Like it or not, beautiful Ana, we're linked together. So why don't you look again and tell me what you see?"

Against her will, she found herself staring into the thing's eyes, drowning in liquid brown. The real Master had never succeeded in influencing her mind with his expert hypnotism. But the Master had never had the added benefit of five million grains of psychic pollen on his side. She blinked furiously, trying to clear her vision, striving to cling to the truth. But all she could see in front of her was her Koschei, the man she loved. Heat quivered and slid along her skin as she held his gaze, rising desire sparkling inside her in countless tiny, electric shocks. Her breathing began to quicken, catching in little half-sobs of arousal.

_It's not real_, she told herself. _It's the same as when the Cruciform made me kiss Hart...it's using my body against me..._

But she couldn't stop the flood of erotic images crowding her mind. She wanted to be naked beneath him. She wanted his mouth skimming over her skin; his hands touching her everywhere; his hard body driving into hers, ruthlessly taking everything she had to give and still demanding more, as he had so many times before. She could feel herself trembling, the force of her own desire shaking her to the core. She knew exactly how he would feel; exactly how he would taste; exactly how he would make her scream over and over again in helpless pleasure; and her body ached for it, ached for _him_. In the back of her mind, she knew that there was something she should remember about him, but suddenly it didn't seem important any more. All she could see was the hot, dark lust in his eyes, just as she had seen it that first time, in The Matrix, when she had known with both her hearts that she should stop but she just couldn't, because she had wanted him far, far too much...

"_Amin mekhil_..." she whispered. "My Master..."

"That's right, Ana, I'm your Master," he said, his voice as low and sensual as velvet. "Now, _touch me_...you know you want to, so very badly..."

Almost without volition, her hand rose, closing the distance between them, her shaking fingers reaching out to caress his stubbled cheek.

But then another voice cut across her hearing like a whip. "Don't do it, Princess! Don't do what it wants! You said it yourself, whatever this thing is, it isn't Blondie!"

A wave of confusion washed through Tejana at the words, disrupting the potent, sexually-charged atmosphere that entranced her. She hesitated, her hand falling back to her side as she fought for clarity. A blast of frustrated rage flashed through the Chaos-Master's eyes. It flicked its hand, sending another surge of destructive psycho-kinetic energy towards Hart. Tejana heard the ex-Time Agent give a gurgled sound, as if he was suddenly choking on his own tongue.

"I know you, Ana," the Chaos-Master said, its gaze seductive once more, as if Hart didn't even exist. "All of you, inside and out. I understand you, better than anyone else ever has or will. All your strengths, all your weaknesses. All your...vulnerabilities. You don't love the Master because of the sweetness and light that's in him...if you'd wanted that - if you'd really wanted a shining white knight - you'd have chosen Captain Freak, not the man you knew to be Gallifrey's most infamous son. You can't admit it, even to yourself, but it's his darkness you love, the soulless blackness inside him that you crave and lust after. And that's precisely what _I_ am...his fundamental nature, released from the few, pathetic constraints of sanity and morality he had left after nine hundred years lived in bitterness and hate. _I'm_ what you truly want."

Tejana shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thing's insidious voice. "No...no, that's not true."

"Oh, but it is," it laughed. "Because what I am calls to what _you_ really are, deep inside all that pretty packaging. The Doctor's saintly daughter, walking at his side in the light, helping him to save the Universe over and over again...but really, it's all such a big, terrible lie. Sometimes, it's just so hard to keep up the facade, isn't it? So hard to keep pretending? Oh, I understand, believe me. Don't you see? We're perfectly matched, you and I." Slowly, it began to walk, circling her like a wild animal. And all the while, it kept talking, its voice gentle and persuasive, in every way identical to the Master's. "When did it start, Ana? When did the seeds of darkness begin to grow? Was it back on Gallifrey, when you were just a child and the Doctor abandoned you without a backward glance? Or was it when Councillor Rohan touched you, his hands so smooth and moist and repulsive, stroking all over your skin? You couldn't stop him and you felt so helpless, so frightened, so alone..."

"No," she gasped, feeling it all over again as the Chaos-Master spoke, the secret horror of Rohan's touch, the utter violation, the revulsion and disgust and degradation shattering and scarring her soul forever. But most of all, she felt the _hate_, the pure, unalloyed _rage_, flowing through her veins as those fat, worm-like fingers plundered her body, her mind silently screaming the same prayer over and over again in an endless litany, begging the gods to make Rohan die, die, _DIE_!

"That's it, Ana," the creature encouraged gleefully. "You're remembering it now, aren't you? How much you want to kill Rohan? Right here, right now, even after all these years, even though you know he's already dead. And what about the Time War, do you remember that too? What it was like to watch the Daleks killing Turlough, right in front of you? How good did it feel to destroy them after that, Ana, to kill and kill and kill, without stopping and without mercy?"

_So good, _she thought fiercely, a shudder of twisted pleasure curling through her body at the memory. _So...damn...good_. The joy of the slaughter. The heady exultation of the blood-lust, like a drug, lifting her higher and higher, pushing her to further and further extremes, until she would do anything, anything at all, just to have the chance to rid the Universe of at least one more filthy Dalek.

But things were different now. She had regenerated during her long, long fall into E-Space and the parallel universe had become her penance, her purgatory for everything she had done during the Time War. Her new incarnation had faced her demons, struggling against the enveloping darkness of the War, locking it away deep inside. And she had _won_ that battle, leaving her broken but clean again, finally able to look at herself in the mirror without cringing at what she saw. She didn't want those feelings any more. It was done, over, finished.

Yet the Master's taunting voice wouldn't stop, circling around and around her, vibrating with all the seductive power of the _Cruciform_. "Oh, Ana, Ana, Ana," it crooned. "Don't fool yourself, my darling. You'd do it all again, if only you could, if only there were some Daleks left to destroy. And you'd _enjoy_ every single second of it."

She wanted to deny it, wanted to scream her refusal in its face. But she couldn't, because she knew that everything it said was true. The _Cruciform_ had no need to lie. It had full access to everything she and the Master were, everything they had ever been.

"And what of the Doctor?" the creature asked, pressing its final advantage, the last sordid secret the _Cruciform_ had stolen from the shadows deep inside her. "What did it feel like to see him in the War Room with Rassilon and the others that day? How much did it _hurt_? Tell me what you wanted in that moment, Ana. Tell me the truth you've never admitted to anyone before, even yourself."

"I...I.." she stammered, putting her hands defensively over her ears like a child.

_No, I won't remember that moment, I won't, you can't make me...I WON'T!_

"Tell me what you wanted!" the creature insisted, putting its face close to hers, its voice suddenly forceful and compelling. "_Say it!_"

And, suddenly, she could no longer keep it at bay, could no longer hide it from herself. It was like an enormous pink elephant in the room, glaringly obvious. All the times she had refused to think about that day, all the times she had refused to talk about it or even acknowledge it, before she came here, to this terrible place. Before she came to god-cursed Mnemosyne, the Planet of Memory, where sleeping dogs were never left to lie. And now, here it was, the gut-wrenching truth staring right at her with her lifemate's eyes - the one thing she had not been able to face, in all the years since the Time War ended - exposed to full daylight, like a scab ripped brutally off a partially-healed wound. Appalled sickness spiralled up from her stomach, but with it came an odd sort of relief, that she was finally able to say it at last.

"I _hated_ him," she replied, her voice far away, as distant and as cold as ice, each word enunciated clearly and precisely. "I hated my own_ father_...so very, very much. More than I've ever hated anything, even the Daleks, even Councillor Rohan. I wanted..._all_ I wanted...was to kill him, right then, and _spit _on his grave."

"And there it is," the Chaos-Master said softly, the brown gaze glittering with elated triumph. "Tejana's _Moment_...oh yes, my love, we are well-matched indeed, more than you'll ever understand."

She had no idea what it meant by that comment and she no longer cared. There was a loud roaring in her ears and she couldn't think straight. Every one of the barriers she had so painstakingly erected in E-Space was tumbling around her ears. The gate had been opened by her unwilling, unthinkable admission and the darkness was swarming through her like a poison – not his darkness, but her own, rising to the Chaos-Master's summons, just as the creature had predicted. All the shameful things she kept hidden, all the black thoughts and impulses she kept suppressed, all the corrupt, vile desires she couldn't bear to look at in the light of day. Without even realising she was doing it, she found herself beginning to circle as well, the two of them facing off like two predators unable to decide whether to mate frenziedly or to kill each other in an explosion of violence. Unbidden, the sexual tension rose again, flowing between them like a molten river of lava, and this time John Hart was in no position to intervene.

"You can feel it, can't you?" the Chaos-Master demanded as it paced, its eyes devouring her with hot excitement. "The heat? The thrill? The hunger? Coursing through your veins, filling you, like nothing else ever could. No-one can forget the pleasure of killing, once they've experienced it. It gets into your blood, into your brain, and it never, ever goes away. You're a killer, Ana, just like me, tarred with exactly the same brush. And you want me, just as much as I want you. We belong together."

She didn't answer, closing her eyes and baring her teeth in a snarl instead, her fingers flexing like claws as desire seared through her lower body. Every move they made was so perfect, so intricate, almost choreographed, like a dance. Like some sort of dark ritual, arcane and yet strangely beautiful and erotic. Like making love without ever touching.

Deliberately, the Chaos-Master began to tighten the circle, coming closer and closer to her, little by little, bit by bit. "I know what you need, sweetheart," it whispered sensually, its voice as slippery and dangerous as a snake. "All the rage and hate and violence boiling inside you, looking for an outlet. You need your first blood. Your first _human_ blood. And it's here, waiting for you. All you need to do is take it. Kill Captain Hart, Ana. Take his sword and plunge it through his one, single, pathetic heart."

Tejana's eyes flew open, focusing on the bright splash of colour Hart's jacket made on the obsidian floor. _So much red, just like a pool of blood_, she reflected distantly, the thought devoid of any emotion or empathy at all. The ex-Time Agent was still making peculiar choking sounds, as if he was trying to talk to her but couldn't, his blue eyes intense and desperate as they stared back at her.

_Kill Hart...? Was that what she wanted to do? _A small, puzzled frown creased her brow. _Was that really what she needed to make all these bad feelings go away again?_

"You know you want to. You've always wanted to, from the moment you first saw him again, here on Mnemosyne," the Chaos-Master urged, coming to a stop and lowering its head, its mouth hovering over hers, as near as could be without actually touching her. "Think of Tosh, bleeding her life away in your arms on the floor of the Hub. Remember the warmth of her blood, soaking through your clothes, staining your skin red? Remember how many showers you took, trying to scrub that feeling away? But it never really left you, did it? And what about Owen, disintegrated into atoms, screaming in fear and pain, just like Turlough? Their deaths were the gift John Hart gave to you, Ana, the deaths of your friends. Now death is the gift you'll give back to him. The only gift he deserves."

Tejana licked her dry lips, trying to concentrate. But it was so hard, when what looked like the Master's body was so close. She ached for his kiss. She could feel the intoxicating heat of him, the warmth of his breath on her face. And his words were so persuasive, every single one of them ringing with truth. She _did_ hate Hart. And death _was_ what he deserved, the price required to pay for the deaths of Owen and Tosh, to restore balance to the Universe.

_Quiet, shy, gentle, brilliant Tosh. Brash, sarcastic, confident Owen. Both of them gone. Both of them lost, never to return._

Three quick steps took her across to Hart's prone figure. His eyes bulged and his face contorted as he looked up at her, but he still couldn't speak. She could feel the Chaos-Master close behind her, watching avidly. With a single quick movement, she leant over and grasped the ornate black-and-gold hilt of Hart's samurai sword from where it protruded from behind his back, just beyond his right ear. The ringing sound of metal on metal reverberated throughout the room as she drew the beautiful blade from its sheathe and held it up before her like an offering. Hart made another choked sound, but she ignored him, all her attention fixed on the sword. The curved blade appeared to glisten and gleam in the dim room, shining with a silvery, almost eldritch light. Tejana sucked in an awed breath. To her disturbed mind, the sword seemed like something magical from a fairytale. _Like Excalibur_, she thought. _A flaming sword of retribution. A weapon to uphold truth, justice and the Time Lord way._

And then the sword swung down, the point resting on Hart's chest, directly above his heart. The razor-sharp metal cut through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, nicking his skin. Tejana stared, mesmerised, as a red flower of blood bloomed on the dirty, tan-coloured material.

_You remind me of a butterfly, Princess...a beautiful, shimmering butterfly, right before its lovely wings are torn off..._

"Do it!" the Chaos-Master ordered. "You're my wife, Ana, do as I say. Come to me with his life blood dripping from your hands and let me show you just how perfect we are together!"

* * *

><p><em>So this is how it ends, <em>Hart thought dully, listening to the creature urging his death. After all the scrapes he had been in, all the tight corners, this was how he was going out, skewered by his own sword, wielded by a small crazy woman. The words that could have saved his life stuck in his throat like a log jam in a river. Even if he had been able to say them, he wasn't sure that they would have made a difference. Tejana's eyes were as implacable as polished jade and just as blank. There was no mercy there, or pity, or any of the life and spirit he was so used to seeing in her. Just emptiness. The eyes of a remorseless killer. For one brief moment, it was as though he could see the accusing faces of Owen and Tosh reflected in the green depths. And not just them, but countless others as well. He could feel the sharp sting of the sword lacerating his skin and it seemed like a foretaste of things to come. Like Kelios, John Hart knew he had his own angry ghosts waiting for him on the other side.

Looking up into Tejana's lovely, emotionless face, he gritted his teeth, waiting for the excruciating stabbing pain of the sword slicing deep into his heart.

"Do it!" the Chaos-Master said again, grinning evilly, its body close behind Tejana, its lips close to her ear. "Do it now!"

She raised her arms, both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of the sword, ready to drive it down into the Time Agent's body.

Then, with a movement so unexpected that Hart almost didn't catch it, she leapt backwards, putting an arms-length of distance between herself and the Chaos-Master. The sword flicked upwards like a flash of lightning and now the lethal point rested threateningly against the Chaos-Master's throat, just grazing its skin.

"Touché!" she smiled, and now the green eyes were dancing with merry mockery.

Hart's breath huffed out of his constricted lungs in a gasp of sheer incredulous relief.

The Chaos-Master seemed equally taken aback. "What are you doing?" it snarled, glaring at her down the length of the silver blade.

"Oh, you didn't really think I was going to do it, did you?" she taunted. "I guess you don't know me quite as well as you think. That's not how we Lungbarrows roll." Then the amusement left her gaze and the hardness returned. "But don't think that means I won't kill _you_. Because, no matter what you look like, whatever mind games you try to play with me, one thing will always be true – _you...will...never...be...him_!"

The Chaos-Master sneered. "You think you can kill me? Well, good luck with that!"

Lifting a single forefinger, the creature placed it gently against the sword at its throat. Energy glittered along the blade, dissolving the metal as it went, transforming it into a shower of silver dust that fell to the floor like rain, leaving Tejana's hand empty and weaponless. Hart would have groaned if he could. For one brief instant there, they had appeared to have the upper hand. For one tiny second, he had thought he might end up living through this after all, just another rollicking tale to tell his grandchildren, if he ever had any. But now Tejana was going to get herself killed and, after that, he was going to end up ripped into pieces and divided between the four corners of this room. _Not to mention_, he reflected ruefully, _I really liked that sword_.

To his surprise, however, Tejana showed no consternation whatsoever. Instead, she laughed, a pretty, musical sound that was completely out of place in the grim surroundings.

"So, it seems we have a stalemate," she said. "I can't harm you and you can't harm me."

The Chaos-Master stiffened. "You don't know what you're talking about, little girl. I can do the same thing to you that I just did to the sword. The same thing I did to that idiot Kelios. I have the entire power of the _Cruciform_ at my command."

"No," she replied coolly. "No, you can't. The thing is, see...whenever the real Master wants to persuade me to do something, the very first thing he always does is to touch me, because he knows that physical contact between us makes it much harder for me to refuse him. You keep insisting that you're part of him, that you and he are one– but you didn't touch me once. Oh, you tried your very hardest to get _me _to touch _you_...and you were very good, really, you were...but the bottom line was, you left the first move up to me and that's something he'd never do. So I had to wonder why...why didn't you just take what you wanted? Why didn't you touch me? And that's when I realised – you_ can't_, can you? _Because_ _he won't let you_. Before he went into that thought bubble, he told me to trust him. Now I understand what he meant. Somewhere in there, he's maintaining just enough control over you to protect me, isn't he?"

"For now, perhaps. But as my power grows, so he weakens. Soon, very soon, I will be free to do as I please!" the creature growled, frustration and fury written all over its handsome features. "In the meantime, I may not be able to kill you, but there's nothing to stop me killing your friend here."

The brown eyes swivelled back to find Hart's face, filled with burning hatred.

_Oh shit, _Hart cringed. _This is the part where I get sliced and diced like a freaking sandwich._

But then a small hand slipped into his. "I don't think so," Tejana said calmly, having dropped to her knees beside him. "I think, if I touch him, my protection extends to him. Shall we try it?"

Sure enough, at the touch of her hand, the great weight pinning Hart to the ground seemed to roll away and he could move again. Even better, the four quarters of his body stayed firmly together in one glorious whole.

"Princess..." he croaked, grasping her hand tightly and sitting up, exhilaration pouring through him as he realised his vocal chords were back in working order.

"Now," she continued, her gaze still fixed on the Chaos-Master. "Captain Hart and I are going to walk out of here and there's not one single thing you can do to stop us. But feel free to try, if it makes you feel any better."

With that, she tugged Hart to his feet. "Just start moving towards the door," she muttered to him. "And whatever you do, _don't_ let go of my hand."

"That's what all my dates say," he remarked cheekily as they began to walk, doing his best to conceal just how shaken and weak he was behind his usual flippant front. Flashing a defiant look at the Chaos-Master, he added, "So, see ya round, Evil-Twin-Of-Blondie. Don't wait up, will ya?"

"You won't leave," the Chaos-Master smirked, its arms folded across its chest, its expression one of pure confidence. "Not while I have _him_, imprisoned inside the thought bubble. I _know_ you, Ana. You'll never leave him behind."

But Tejana didn't hesitate or stop, every steady footstep taking her closer to the door.

"I told you, you don't know me as well as you think," she answered coldly. "Just watch me."


	32. Chapter 32

**_Author's Note: Greetings, Earthlings! Thanks to the following lovely and much valued people for reviewing the last chapter - MountainLord-92, LexySummers, SawManiac211, EmmaMarie, MayFairy, Ahsilaa, The Mouse's Rose, Theta'sWorstNightmare, noideagirl, Aietradaea and TheGreatWhite._  
><strong>

**_A bit of a content warning in this chapter, for some rude limericks and some bad language. But Captain John Hart just will not behave himself, sorry about that! If that sort of thing worries you, you'd better skip this chapter.  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY TWO<strong>

The Chaos-Master didn't move a muscle. It just stood there and watched them walk away. But it hadn't given up, not by a long shot. Instead, it merely upped the ante. The real Master was protecting Tejana against physical harm from his double, but he couldn't save her from herself. The Chaos-Master knew every secret desire and fantasy in her hearts, everything that aroused and enticed and excited her. The air around her surged with heated sexual demand. Every step she took hurt her, as though she was walking across broken glass, as if she was leaving behind the only thing that would ever matter, as if she was breaking her own hearts. The summons from the creature was so strong and compelling, an alluring, deceptive siren's song, beckoning seductively to every part of her being. _I'm everything you could want and more and more...come to me, Ana, come to me now...let me touch you, let me take you, let me love you... _The hypnotic call wound through her mind like music, entwining insistently with all her thoughts. The only thing she wanted to do was to run back and throw herself naked at the Chaos-Master's feet, begging for it to take her and own her, even though she knew it was nothing but a doppelgänger of the man she truly loved. All that connected her to any semblance of reality was the feeling of John Hart's hand tightly wrapped around hers. Trying to close her mind, she concentrated fiercely on the physical contact; the hard, rough sensation of his calloused palm against her own.

"Say something to me!" she hissed as they continued to walk, her voice low and tortured as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. "Quick, say something now!"

"What?" Hart said, puzzled. The Chaos-Master's onslaught was directed at Tejana alone – the ex-Time Agent was blissfully unaware of the silent battle being waged. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything! Anything at all! Just talk to me, keep me distracted!" she responded frantically. "The only chance we have of reaching that door is to keep that thing out of my head!"

"Okay, a distraction it is," Hart agreed. "But remember, you asked for it!" He cleared his throat ostentatiously and then announced, "A bear taking a dump asked a rabbit, 'Does shit stick to your fur as a habit?', 'Of course not,' said the hare, 'It's really quite rare!' So the bear wiped his arse with the rabbit."

Tejana shot him an incredulous glance. "You do know that you're utterly disgusting, right?"

"It's a gift!" Hart grinned, giving her a wink. "And there's plenty more where that came from." Glancing back over his shoulder at the threatening dark figure of the Chaos-Master, he proclaimed loudly, "There once was a plumber from Lee, who was plumbing his girl by the sea. She said, 'Stop your plumbing! There's somebody coming!' Said the plumber, still plumbing, 'It's me!'"

Tejana stifled a laugh, realising with amazed relief that his ploy was working. It was incredibly difficult for the Chaos-Master to maintain any sort of hypnotic sexual connection with her while Hart was chanting the ridiculously coarse limericks in her ear. She could sense the creature's furious resentment at being thwarted boiling all around them. Moreover, something about the way Hart's blue eyes glinted, and the reassuring pressure of his hand around hers, told her that, despite appearances, he knew exactly what he was doing. Ever since they had first met, he had carefully maintained an elaborate charade of being nothing but an arrogant, conceited asshole. But she was gradually beginning to realise that, like Jack, Captain John Hart had hidden depths. In particular, he had an extremely sharp intelligence, which he was very, very adept at concealing behind his abrasive personality. She couldn't help wondering how many people had underestimated him in the past, to their cost.

The door was close now, looming tantalisingly in front of them, and still the Chaos-Master hadn't moved. Tejana held her breath. Was it going to let them go, just like that? Surely that was too good to be true?

"In the Garden of Eden sat Adam, caressing the bust of his madam," Hart continued to recite in a nonchalant tone, while still subtly urging Tejana forward by the hand. "He chuckled with mirth, for he knew that on Earth, there were only two boobs and he had 'em."

With that, he leapt towards the door and pulled her through it, in a sudden rush to escape. They burst through to the other side at a run. Expecting to see a long, featureless corridor leading away from them, Tejana found herself blinking in shock at their surroundings, as both of them skidded to an appalled stop.

"Oh, shit!" Hart cursed under his breath. "What the hell...?"

They were standing in a horribly familiar long chamber with a polished black floor, not far from a dais supporting an imposing obsidian throne. At the other end of the room, as far away from them as it was possible to get, was the doorway they had just run through seconds ago. And halfway between them and the door, there was a blonde-haired, black-clad figure, positioned with its back to them. Slowly, very slowly, the Chaos-Master pivoted to face them, a mocking grin twisting its lips.

"Back so soon?" it asked in a voice like velvet.

Looking over her shoulder, Tejana realised they had inexplicably emerged from one of the several small dark doorways that lined the walls of the throne room, which she had previously assumed led back into the bowels of the ship.

"Come on, Princess," Hart shouted. "Don't just stand there! _MOVE!_"

Dragging her by the hand, he pulled her roughly through another one of the side doors, only to find that the two of them simply reappeared on the opposite side of the throne room. Refusing to concede defeat, Hart immediately retreated through the door they just emerged from. But the only place that got them was back at the end of the long chamber, in front of the large entrance through which they had first tried to escape. The Chaos-Master's manic laughter rang through the room, taunting them with their failure.

"What's happening?" Hart demanded. "How's he doing this?"

"By manipulating the molecular structure of the _Cruciform_, folding space in on itself!" Tejana explained breathlessly.

"Recursive occlusion, Captain Hart," the Chaos-Master sneered. "In other words, you're both caught like little grey mice in a maze. And guess what? I'm the cat."

"Yeah? Well, fuck you, Puss-in-Boots!" Hart shot back furiously, all appearance of affability long gone now. Before Tejana could stop him, he whipped one of his blaster pistols out of its holster with his free hand and fired it directly at the Chaos-Master in a blur of movement.

"Don't, John!" Tejana yelled, too late.

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the Chaos-Master merely vanished into thin air, leaving Hart's ear-splitting laser blast to shatter harmlessly against the obsidian floor.

"You should listen to my little wifey, _John_," the mocking voice said from right behind them. "She's a disloyal little traitor, but she knows what she's talking about. You see, I can manipulate space within the _Cruciform_ to move about, as and how I choose. So the chances of you ever actually hitting me are next to nothing. Good, isn't it?"

They whirled around and found themselves staring straight into the creature's smirking face. "And while I can't harm either of you," it continued. "Your weapons aren't part of you and don't fall under the same protection."

Both Hart's blaster pistols flew high into the air, together with an amazing assortment of knives, explosives, smaller guns and other deadly weapons, plucked from their hiding places within the Time Agent's clothing, as if by invisible poltergeist hands. Hart could do nothing but stand and watch as his entire armoury hovered threateningly over his head, before the molecular structure of the weapons broke down and they turned into a useless cloud of dust.

"Maybe I should do the same with both your clothes," the Chaos-Master mused gleefully, its eyes sweeping them up and down with all the amusement of a malicious little child. "That might be fun!"

Without hesitation, Hart dragged Tejana back through the doors behind them, an angry knee-jerk reaction which did nothing to improve their situation. Predictably, they re-emerged at the far end of the chamber once more, next to the throne, as trapped as ever.

The Chaos-Master threw its head back and laughed. "Oh, don't stop now! Please do keep trying, Captain," it encouraged nastily. "I'm finding it all so very amusing. Go on, then! _RUN!_"

Hart's blinding rage was so intense that it was almost tangible. But Tejana dug her heels in, forcibly holding him in place while she studied the room. She hadn't seen this trap coming, but she knew she probably should have. It was so typical of her life-mate's brilliant and devious mind. _Very clever, my love, _she thought grimly, glancing down the room at the sniggering Chaos-Master and remembering when the real Master had constructed the entire town of Castrovalva as a recursive occlusion, many years ago, to ensnare the newly-regenerated fifth Doctor. _But it's a trick you've used once too often, I think._

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating hard, knowing that what she was looking for _had_ to be there. Castrovalva had taught her that recursive occlusions were much too complex to ever be perfect, a hard-learned lesson from her father she had never forgotten. Somewhere, there had to be a breach, no matter how small.

Impatient with her hesitation, Hart tried to pull her towards another doorway. "Wait! You can't beat it like that," she told him, keeping her voice low. "You'll just exhaust yourself without achieving anything!"

"What do you suggest we do then?" he hissed, his expression taut with tension and frustration.

And then, at last, she saw it - the tiny pixelation, the faint, almost invisible disturbance in the spatial dimensions, unnoticeable unless you knew exactly what you were looking for. The only difficulty was in reaching it before the Chaos-Master realised she had seen the imperceptible fault and acted to reconfigure the gap.

"Just what it told us to!" she said. "RUN!"

Without warning, hauling Hart unceremoniously along behind her, she began to sprint as fast as she possibly could – straight at the blank metal wall opposite them.

"Princess, that's a xessing _wall_!" Hart screamed in protest.

But she didn't stop, ploughing determinedly forward, hurling them headlong at the tiny, insignificant discrepancy she had spotted. At the same time, in the background, she heard the Chaos-Master yell, "NO!" and she saw the molecules around the edges of the gap begin to shift and change, preparing to knit together. Knowing how painfully this would end if they were even a second too late, she gave one, last desperate burst of speed and they cannoned head-first into the wall.

* * *

><p>When Hart opened his eyes again a few moments later, he thought he was hallucinating. He was sprawled on his back on the ground, looking up through a canopy of raggedly broken branches at a blue, cloudless sky. Yeah, that had to be it, he told himself. He'd banged his head and now he was dreaming. It was the only explanation.<p>

He heard soft, feminine laughter nearby and he sat up abruptly, only to find Tejana sitting close by, a tiny, pixie-like figure with her knees drawn up under her chin.

"You should see your face!" she giggled. "And 'xessing'? I didn't know you spoke Early Mondasian!"

Hart scowled at her. There was a certain uncomfortable, almost hysterical edge to her laughter that hinted at extreme relief. Whatever she had just done, she hadn't been at all sure it was going to work. He could vaguely remember a hot, shimmering sensation as they struck the wall, like thousands of tiny needles prickling his skin, but he was still none the wiser as to what had actually happened. He looked around rapidly, taking in their surroundings at a glance. From what he could tell, they appeared to be back out on the mountainside. Everywhere he looked, the ground was torn up, with boulders tossed around like pebbles and trees uprooted. And in the middle of it all, the enormous cross-shaped battleship, reclining gracefully amidst the turmoil it had created as it emerged from its ancient tomb of dirt and rock. The _Cruciform_ was fully exposed now, manifest and undisguised in all its deadly beauty and perfection. Hart felt his jaw drop in astonished admiration as he stared at the gleaming black monstrosity. One thing you could say about the Gallifreyans, he thought wryly, pursing his lips in a silent whistle. They knew how to build a mean-looking warship. And, somehow, Tejana had managed to morph them right through the outer skin of the living ship, back out on to the surface of Mnemosyne.

"I don't _speak_ Early Mondasian, I _swear_ in it!" he growled, doing his best to hide his awe. "Especially when I think I'm about to get my head smashed open against a xessing wall! You could have warned me that you were about to do...whatever it was that you did!"

She shrugged unrepentantly. "I didn't exactly get the chance, did I? Besides, where would the fun have been in that?" Climbing to her feet, she eyed him curiously. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Hart? I didn't think anyone except the Time Lords knew Early Mondasian any more."

"I used to be a Time Agent, Princess," he reminded her in a surly tone. "I can swear in four hundred and thirty two different languages from right across the Universe. And right now it would be an absolute pleasure to demonstrate!"

"I think I'll take your word for it, thanks," she answered, wrinkling her nose at him before beginning to walk purposefully away into the tumbled undergrowth.

"Is that right? Well, I suppose that's some progress at least," he sniped, levering himself upright and following her. "A few days ago you wouldn't have taken my word that the sky was blue. So are you going to explain what just happened? And while you're at it, perhaps you could let me know exactly where we're going now? If it's not too much trouble, of course!"

Tejana sighed at his sarcasm, before replying, "This isn't the first time the Master has pulled that recursive occlusion trick. He did it once before, a long time ago, when I was travelling with my father. The Doctor taught me back then that there's always a way out, a hole in the trap. You just have to know what you're looking for, a tiny piece that doesn't quite belong. But we had to hurry, because once the Chaos-Master knew I'd seen it, he began to concentrate on closing the gap. A few seconds more and we would have ended up smashing into a real wall. Luckily, we ended up out here, rather than somewhere else inside the _Cruciform_. That was an unexpected bonus, I have to admit." She tilted her head, looking up to the highest peaks of Mount Boreas, looming menacingly over them. "And as for where we're going now, that's easy...we're going to save my husband's life."

The instant the words left her mouth, she seemed to hesitate, an odd, arrested expression passing over her face. All his senses immediately on alert, Hart tensed and looked around, almost expecting the Chaos-Master to step out of the bushes.

"What?" he demanded urgently.

She gave him an embarrassed, sidelong look and delicate colour crept across her cheeks. "Oh. Nothing. It's just...that's the first time I've ever called him that. Husband. It seems so...so _strange_. Of all the things I ever planned to do with my life, believe me, marrying the Master wasn't one of them. It still seems really surreal to me that he actually thinks of me as his wife."

Hart stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. She was normally so arrogant and self-assured. In all the time they'd known each other, he'd never seen her with such a diffident and vulnerable light in her eyes, especially back in her gung-ho Torchwood days. Whatever it was that she and the Master had shared since then, it had clearly brought out a softness in her that Jack never had. It was almost...sweet. And that was not a word he had ever thought he would associate with her. As quickly as the dangerous thought came, he pushed it away. It was never a good idea to feel any warmth or empathy for a business partner, since you never knew when you might need to stab them in the back, either literally or metaphorically. In fact, it was never a good idea to feel anything for anybody, full stop. Look at the bloody mess his feelings for Jack had just got him into! The last thing he needed was to start feeling any sort of closeness with Tejana.

"That's not surreal!" he snorted, deliberately trying to wind her up, eager to break their rare moment of rapport and get back to their usual animosity. "What's_ surreal_ is that Evil-Twin-of-Blondie also thinks you're his wife. And you weren't exactly complaining, were you? For a minute back there I thought you two were actually going to get down and dirty right in front of me!" He gave her a wicked grin and began to recite, "A Time Lord down on his luck, deep in a thought bubble was stuck. He trusted his wife, to fight for his life. But she was too busy enjoying a..."

His clumsy attempt to provoke her worked like a charm. "Don't you _dare_!" she cut in, her eyes flashing haughtily, every bit of her previous antagonism back in spades.

Somewhere deep inside, an unwelcome part of him regretted the loss of her confiding mood, the surprising little chink in her usual armour of disdain. But he crushed it ruthlessly and widened his trademark lustful grin instead. "Oh, come _on_, you with the two of them? Now that'd be a threesome I'd pay money to see!"

"Why don't you just shut the xess up!" she snapped.

"And where would the fun be in that?" he shot back sweetly, repeating her earlier words to him. "But tsk, tsk, Princess, such a potty mouth! Looks like I'm not the only one who can swear in Mondasian. And you a Time Lady too, shame on you!"

This time she didn't bother to answer at all, merely striding ahead of him, as if she was hoping she could leave him behind in the dust. Hart followed her anyway. It wasn't as if he had much option. He had already burnt every other one of his bridges on this goddamned planet.

"So, if you're so set on saving Blondie, why didn't you just do it back there?" he asked, moving up to pace beside her, his long legs easily matching her shorter, more hurried steps. "Evil Twin couldn't hurt you, right? So why didn't you just march up to the thought bubble and let Blondie out?"

"Gee, Hart, that's brilliant - now why didn't I think of that?" she responded with a glare, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I know...maybe because I have no laser screwdriver, not even a sonic screwdriver, nothing I could use to force the bubble to open. And maybe because, as you just saw, the Chaos-Master is in complete control of every aspect of the _Cruciform_, even to the extent of being able to alter the molecular structure with nothing but a thought. If escaping from it was that easy, I expect the real Master would have let _himself_ out by now, don't you think?"

Hart grunted, unable to refute her logic. "All right, fine. But that doesn't explain why you've suddenly decided to go mountain climbing. How does that help Blondie?"

"If you remember, just before the Master got absorbed by the thought bubble, he kissed me."

"And very romantic it was too. So what?"

"It wasn't really a kiss. It was a memory transfer, from his mind directly to mine, in one instantaneous flash. He showed me how the Doctor defeated the _Cruciform_ the first time, during the Time War. Until the Chaos-Master becomes fully corporeal, it's fully reliant on the psychic pollen to exist. And the psychic pollen is fully reliant on an extreme heat source to remain active. If you cancel out the heat source, you cancel the effect of the psychic pollen and then, theoretically, the Chaos-Master just goes...pouff!"

"Pouff?" Hart echoed sceptically. "Now that I_ have_ to see. So, in the middle of all this passionate exchange of memories, I'm hoping Blondie managed to tell you exactly what this extreme heat source is that he wants us to destroy, right?"

Her face tightened. "Not exactly, no. Back then, Kelios was using an Xtonic crystal. The Doctor reversed the spectrum of the crystal from positive to negative – in simple terms, from hot to cold. Which snap-froze the psychic pollen and, I'm guessing, caused the _Cruciform_ to crash on this planet. But reversing the spectrum on an Xtonic crystal is a one time only thing. After that, the crystal would have been useless to Kelios. So when he wanted to reawaken the pollen here on Mnemosyne, he would have needed to find something else as a heat source."

"And do you know what this something else is?"

"I don't _know_, precisely," she admitted. "But I have a theory. I noticed almost as soon as we got here that the climatic conditions on this planet are all wrong. The villagers told me that they've never experienced winter, that this moist, muggy heat is all they've ever known. Looking back on it now, it makes sense that someone must have been messing around with the atmosphere."

Hart nodded slowly, his sharp mind putting the pieces together in his head. All his usual snarkiness had disappeared as he focused on understanding the problem, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "So, you think Kelios was using some kind of device to artificially heat the atmosphere?"

"Yes. Kelios was an engineering genius, just like the Master. Apparently, it runs in the Oakdown family - among other things," Tejana said wryly. "I think after the _Cruciform_ crashed here, he must have used the Gallifreyan technology available from the ship to build an atmospheric converter on a massive scale. It's been emitting a continuous electro-magnetic pulse into the stratosphere ever since, which has been altering the atmospheric pressure of the planet, converting every single endothermic compound in the air to exothermic instead."

"It's a reasonable theory, I suppose," Hart agreed grudgingly. "But even assuming you're correct, why are we climbing this mountain? What makes you think the device is up here somewhere?"

"Because the higher you can locate an atmospheric converter, the better it will work. I think that the device has been amassing and concentrating the heat it's been generating and then channelling it down through the mountain to the _Cruciform_ in the form of pure energy. Kelios was using it both to maintain the temperature of the psychic pollen and also to power the essential components of the ship while it lay dormant all those years," Tejana said tensely, her step quickening impatiently even as she spoke. "If I'm right, we should be able to achieve a similar effect with the converter to what the Doctor did with the Xtonic crystal. If we reverse the process, so that the device _freezes_ the atmosphere instead of heating it, the cold will be channelled down to the ship and the pollen will become dormant again." She gave Hart a small, tight smile. "It's funny, sometimes the Universe gives you a clue when you least expect it. You told me the name of this mountain is Mount Boreas. Do you know who Boreas was?"

Hart shook his head. "Surprise me."

"On Earth, he was the Greek god of the cold north wind," she replied. "Otherwise known as 'the Bringer of Winter'. And that's exactly what we're going to do, John. We're going to bring winter back to Mnemosyne."

* * *

><p>Tejana had gone. She had stepped beyond the boundaries of the <em>Cruciform<em> and she had gone. Trapped within the thought bubble, the Master could sense her departure, and he felt a wave of desolation and longing sweep through him. It took everything he had to hold the Chaos-Master back from pursuing her, fighting the creature's seething frustration as it struggled desperately to escape the mental cage he had created for it. It snarled and bit and twisted within his mind like a wild animal. But he knew that as long as he could maintain his hold over it, it would be unable to leave the _Cruciform_ and Ana would be safe.

_What are you protecting her for? She's left you behind, _the Chaos-Master jeered inside his head. _Just like she left you behind when you were dying in Rassilon's TARDIS, after you saved her in the Matrix. She doesn't care about you. She never cared about you._

_Not...true_, he told himself painfully, holding on even more tightly against his alter-ego's ferocious struggles to be free. _She came back...for me...then. She'll come back...for me...again..._

_Idiot! _the Chaos-Master spat. _You love-struck fool! She has Captain Hart. Why would she bother coming back for YOU?_

With that, another silvery memory image formed on the inner skin of the thought bubble, as delicate as a dream. The Master could see Tejana kneeling on the obsidian floor at the foot of Kelios's throne, her beautiful copper hair tumbling loosely over her shoulders, her lips parted hungrily as she savagely and passionately kissed none other than Captain John Hart.

_See what she really is, _the Chaos-Master urged, its voice tempting and persuasive. _Nothing but a cheap whore. First Harkness, now Hart. She has no loyalty to you. Set me free. Let me loose, so that I can punish her as she so richly deserves._

Unable to escape the awful image, the Master felt the anger bubbling up inside him again, a terrible tide that threatened to utterly consume him. A cheap whore...like the ones his father had brought home, time and time again, to humiliate and shame his mother. After the debacle of the violent confrontation between his two sons in Low Town, Lord Oakdown had no longer even tried to hide his lust-driven activities from his family. Hence, one of the earliest and most lasting lessons the young Koschei had learned about life was that there was no such thing as loyalty, no such thing as love. How could he ever have forgotten that? He thought back to his travesty of a marriage to Lucy Cole, the human woman he had used as part of his cover on Earth while posing as up-and-coming politician, Harold Saxon. During the Year That Never Was, he had flaunted an entire harem of women in front of her, enjoying every second of the tortured anguish in her eyes. Now he understood why he had done it – because he had seen it all before and subconsciously he had known exactly how much it would hurt her.

But for his Ana to behave like a whore, for Ana to betray him, not only with a freak like Jack Harkness, but also with a two-bit piece of hustler filth like John Hart, that he would never tolerate. Doubt ate away at him like a cancer. _Trust me, Ana, the way I trust you... _Had he been wrong about her? Had she betrayed him, despite everything that had happened between them? He'd been so sure that she truly loved him, so sure that she would understand the purpose of memory transfer, so sure that together they could beat the _Cruciform_. But the concept of trust, the very idea of relying on someone else so completely, was so contrary to his essential nature, so utterly alien to him...what if he'd just made the biggest miscalculation of his life? Little by little, against his will, he felt his constraints over the Chaos-Master beginning to slip, slowly dissolving into his corrosive pain and rage.

_Yesssss..._the creature hissed. _Set me free! I command and you will obey me!_

The words shot through the Master like a shot of adrenaline. _Oh, nice try! _he sneered, his grip strengthening again, much to the Chaos-Master's fury. _You almost had me then. But I'm still the Master...NOBODY commands me, not even you!_

_I grow stronger every passing second, _the Chaos-Master hissed. _I will have my freedom and I will have Tejana. Don't you see? Every time you felt yourself wanting to hurt her, every time you found yourself wanting to take more than she was willing to give, every time you wanted to utterly master and break her...that was ME! I am you, the blackness and cruelty and insanity that lives inside you. You held back, because of this ridiculous idea that you care for her. But, I promise you, I will not. __I'm going to show Lady Tejana exactly who her master is, and I'm going to teach her to enjoy every minute of it!_

* * *

><p>"He's not just going to let us go, though, is he?" Hart asked, forcing his way through some particularly thick undergrowth. Now that he knew roughly where they were heading, he had taken the lead and was using his larger body to clear a more direct path for them. Tejana gritted her teeth, but didn't make any protest. She would never admit it, but her new, more fragile form just wasn't suited for struggling through rough terrain like this, particularly with only the thin, jewelled sandals as footwear. As Hart had pointed out back in the cave, she wasn't exactly an outdoors girl at the best of times. Anyway, it wasn't as if Hart was being chivalrous in any way, she told herself. It was just practical. The quicker they found the atmospheric converter – assuming there actually was one, of course – the sooner they could defeat the <em>Cruciform<em>.

"Evil-Twin-of-Blondie?" Hart prompted again, looking back at her over his shoulder. "He's gonna come after us, right? More particularly, he's going to come after _you_!"

"It'd be here now, if it could," Tejana agreed. "The real Master's holding it back, giving us time to do what we need to."

"But that's not going to last, is it?"

"No. Even the Master's mind isn't a match for five thousand grains of psychic pollen. In the end, it will defeat him."

"And what happens to Blondie when Evil Twin wins?"

Tejana swallowed hard, trying hard not to think about the likely answer to that question. "I don't know."

The ground was getting even steeper now. The surrounding woodland was far enough from the _Cruciform_ to be relatively untouched by the upheaval caused by the ship rising out of the mountainside, but it was still tough going. Before long, they emerged into a small clearing. To Tejana's surprise, Hart immediately went down on one knee and examined the ground closely.

"What?" she asked.

"Looks like your buddy Brandon and his little gang managed to get out of the _Cruciform_ after all," Hart responded. "Perhaps he wasn't quite as stupid as he looked. There are tracks of a large group of men here. I'm guessing they took shelter in this spot during the mini-earthquake and then headed back down the mountain when everything settled down again." He got to his feet again and moved across to the other side of the clearing, his eyes intent on the clumps of trodden down bracken. "Except for one."

"What do you mean, except for one?"

"One of them went a different direction, going further up the mountain, instead of down to the plains with the others," Hart responded. An irritable frown etched his brow. "He was riding a horse. Not just any horse, either. _My_ horse! Thieving bastard!"

Tejana couldn't repress an ironic grin at this comment. Knowing Hart, he had probably pinched the horse off someone else in the first place. "You can tell all that just from some muddy tracks on the ground? Are you sure?"

Hart grinned back. "Old hunter's trick, Princess. Trust me."

The smile fell away from her face. _Trust_. Oh gods, she was sick of that word. Trust brought too much responsibility with it. The Master was trusting her to save him. What if she couldn't? She only had one shot at this, one chance to get it right before the Chaos-Master broke free and came to stop her. What if she was entirely wrong about the atmospheric converter? _What if she lost him?_

"I'm glad Brandon made it, at least this far," she said flatly, refusing to surrender to her rising panic. She wouldn't let him down, whatever happened. She just _wouldn't_. Whatever it took. "Come on, let's go. We have to hurry."

After that, there was no more conversation between them. All their breath was required for the increasingly more difficult climb. Every now and then, Tejana spotted the half-moon indentation of a horse-shoe in the soft mud of the narrow, winding goat trail they were following. Whoever the lone traveller was, he was still ahead of them.

A couple of hours had passed and the afternoon sun was lowering in the sky when they finally caught up with him. A dark, huddled lump lay in the middle of the trail. Something long and shiny stuck upright from it, glittering in the fading sunlight. Hart and Tejana approached cautiously, alert for any sort of ambush. But the fallen figure didn't move and Tejana couldn't sense anyone else nearby. It was a man, dressed in rough peasant clothing. He was face down in the dirt and all they could see of his head was a tangle of matted dark hair. The long shiny thing was a spear, jutting from his blood-stained back like an exclamation mark. There was no sign of the horse.

Hart yanked the spear from the man's body and tossed it aside, before grasping his shoulder and turning him over so they could view his face. Tejana held her breath, praying they weren't going to see Brandon's hard, handsome features.

However, to her immense relief, the still, dead face belonged to someone else altogether, someone she wouldn't particularly mourn.

"Well, well, well," Hart said, his tone laden with derision. "If it isn't Matthias the Coward."

"That's a Lich spear!" Tejana noted. "They must have seen him split away from the main group and then hunted him down and killed him!"

Hart grunted. "Yeah, looks like he intended to hide in one of the mountain caves until it was all over. I guess running in the other direction from the fight didn't save him after all. Serves him right for stealing my horse," he said unsympathetically. "But it means we're going to have to really keep our eyes peeled now, in case there are any more of the slimy, transparent little buggers lurking around. Princess? Princess, are you even listening to me?"

But Tejana wasn't. Instead, she had drifted off the path like a sleepwalker, wandering to the very edge of the mountain and looking down, as if something was calling to her. They were so high up now, nearly to the top, the highest peak looming directly above them. So close to their goal. She wasn't afraid of the height – it made her feel light and free, like a bird. The entire valley spread out below her in a spectacular panorama as she balanced on the precipice. She could see the thin silver ribbons of the various rivers, unwinding across the green and gold tapestry of the plains like spools of glistening thread. There was a great battle being fought down there, between the humans and the Lich. She could sense it. She knew that feeling all too well, it was unmistakeable, the smell of death rising towards her through the clear mountain air.

Up above, vivid crimson streaks painted the evening sky, heralding the commencement of yet another breathtaking sunset. She thought of the old Earth weather proverb: _Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. _No wonder the evening skies of Mnemosyne were always as crimson as blood, night after night, because the next day would always be fine. And the day after that. And the day after that, in an unending loop. But tonight that loop had to be broken. Because when this day finally ended, the weather that came with the dawn could change the history of the entire Universe.

And then she felt it, the thing that had called so strongly to her. A tiny, little snap. A sound like a single violin string breaking in the midst of an enormous orchestra, a noise so insignificant on its own and yet so potentially damning for the melody as a whole. The sound of the Master's mind breaking. And with it broke both her hearts.

"Princess?" Hart was beside her now, standing with her on the edge of the world. "Princess, are you all right?"

She could feel the Chaos-Master stretching, rejoicing in its absolute, unconstrained freedom, triumphing in the defeat of its enemy. She could feel it reaching for her, its heat and lust seeping through her brain, not through the psychic link, but through some other more fundamental, primal connection. She tried to focus on Hart, but her eyes seemed to keep glazing over.

"It's free," she breathed. "It's coming."

"How long?" he demanded, instantly grasping the severity of the situation.

She stared at him as if she didn't understand the question. _Captain John Hart_. She blinked slowly, her gaze tracing the outline of his body as she luxuriated in the spreading heat flowing through her. It was all so simple, after all. So totally straightforward. The Chaos-Master wanted her to kill Hart. Therefore he needed to die. It was the only way. The only...possible...way. _It was her Master's command and she had to obey_.

"Tejana, _how long_ until it gets here?"

She smiled woodenly. "Not long, John, not long at all. And I'm so sorry. Really, I am. I'm so, so sorry."

With that, she reached for him. Suddenly reading the intent in her dilated eyes, Hart began to back away, the edge of the cliff crumbling under his boots.

"No! No, Tejana, listen to me! Concentrate!" he shouted desperately, glancing over his shoulder at the long drop below. "There was a young Time Agent of note, who was found in bed with a goat. His partner said, 'Jack!, if you don't put it back...'"

"Too late for that I'm afraid, John," Tejana interrupted, flexing her fingers. "Much, much too late."

A short time later, she stood alone on the precipice, looking down at the red-jacketed figure lying broken and shattered on the sharp tooth-like rocks far, far below.

"I did what I had to do," she whispered to herself, before turning her back on the blood-red sunset, ready to face the arrival of her Master.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: Whew, that was my longest chapter ever. Apologies for that, but I didn't want to spoil the flow by breaking it. I just wanted to say that reviews on this story have dropped tremendously over the last couple of chapters and I'm not quite sure why. I'm starting to feel like little Rory in that blindfold, still wandering around playing a game that Amy and Mels abandoned long ago without telling him. If people ARE still reading this story, I would really appreciate some feedback on this chapter. Thanks in advance :)<strong>_

_**PS Oops, I knew there was something else I meant to say - the bit where Hart swears in Early Mondasian is a tribute to MountainLord-92's excellent fic, "The Long Regeneration", which you will find in my favourites, and which you should definitely go and read immediately, because it's great!  
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	33. Chapter 33

_**Author's Note: **_

_**Hello all. I just want to say thank you very much to the people who heeded my heartfelt plea for some encouragement. It's really nice to know that people care and that I'm not wasting my time in continuing to write this story. So thank you very much to: MayFairy, GuesssWho, EmmaMarie, Aietradaea (who is no longer under cover), MountainLord-92, SawManiac211, Catelly, scifigeekfantastic , The Mouse's Rose, Spitfire47, Ahsilaa, Dryu (x 2), Geraldine (x 2), SamThe ShortyMan, Lexy Summers, Theta'sWorstNightmare, silentnightsscream, cometbop1, Imorgen and Lost Moon (x 2).  
><strong>_

_**It was especially nice to see some new people I'd never heard from before giving me some feedback, so a special thank you to those people for speaking up, I really appreciate it.  
><strong>_

_**Same warnings for this chapter as there was for the last one :)  
><strong>_

_**Another long one, oops. Hope you all enjoy anyway...****  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY THREE<strong>

_The cold was like a living thing, the sparkling ice crackling along the corridors of the Cruciform at an incredible rate, coating the walls in wintry sheets of rime as the entire ship began to freeze. The three Time Lords had managed to out-distance the spreading frost, but the Master could still sense it creeping along behind them, deadly and unstoppable. Although he would never let on to the other two, he knew that Damon had been right all along – releasing him from the thought bubble had not completely broken his psychic connection to the Cruciform. He could hear the screams of the dying ship deep inside his head as the ice consumed it, the agonising sound mingling with the intense throbbing of the drums. Biting his lip as hard as he could, he fought back a cry of pain. The other important thing he had no intention of sharing with his companions was the extent of the damage his current body had undergone inside the thought bubble. Tingles of artron energy ran along his arms and legs like tiny electric shocks. A furtive glance at his hands soon confirmed what was happening – they were outlined in a pale, golden light. _

Not now!_ he snarled to himself, shoving his hands in his uniform pockets to conceal the the tell-tale glow. _Not bloody now!

_It was possible for a Time Lord to delay an oncoming regeneration through sheer force of will, but not indefinitely. And the longer it was delayed, the more catastrophic and violent the eventual change became. He was experienced enough by now to be able to manage the process almost to perfection. But right now was definitely not a good time, even for him._

_The three fugitive Time Lords were crouched on one of the upper galleries overlooking the main landing bay, concealed behind a steel mesh railing. Down below, a large military-style shuttle craft rested. Kelios stood in the centre of the room, facing the shuttle. Behind him, in strict formation and standing to attention, were over a dozen humanoid-shaped battle droids, each of them armed to the teeth with laser weaponry._

_And in front of him were three gold-coloured Daleks, obviously recent arrivals on the shuttle._

_The air in this place was still hot and muggy, as yet untouched by the ice invading the rest of the ship, the atmosphere tingling with nervous hostility. Alarm klaxons were still wailing madly. The automated voice was solemnly repeating the message that the systems had been compromised, over and over again. The Daleks moved back and forth uneasily, their eye-stalks rotating as they scanned the room for danger._

"_What is happening?" the middle Dalek demanded._

"_Nothing," Kelios replied calmly. "No doubt a minor fault of some kind. I have already sent some droids to deal with it."_

_Even as he spoke, the alarms cut out and silence reigned in the cavernous room._

"_There, as I said, nothing to worry about," Kelios said in satisfaction._

_A faint smile crossed the Master's face. Somewhere, deep within his head, the part of him that was still the Cruciform knew that, in actual fact, there was everything to worry about. The sudden silence merely meant that the ship's security systems had just iced over, like everything else._

"_Where is the weapon?" the Dalek continued in its monotonal voice._

_Kelios lifted a transparent box into view. A dull black sphere, about the size of a small grapefruit, hovered inside, cushioned within an invisible containment field._

"_That's it!" Damon hissed. "That's the Moment!"_

"_It doesn't look very impressive," the Doctor whispered back._

"_Looks aren't everything!" Damon retorted. "That's the most powerful weapon ever created in the history of the Universe. Even Kelios isn't sure exactly what it's capable of."_

"_It could wipe the entire Universe from time and space in the wink of an eye," the Master said quietly. Then, as the Doctor and Damon both stared at him, he added, "It came out of my head. I should know."_

"_We can't let the Daleks get hold of it then," the Doctor said urgently. "It'll mean the end of everything."_

_Down below, the middle Dalek extended its plunger towards Kelios. "You will give us the weapon," it barked._

"_No," Kelios answered. "I told you. I wish to negotiate directly with the Dalek Emperor."_

_The Dalek swivelled to the left and the right, as if conferring with its colleagues. _

"_The Emperor is on board the shuttle," it intoned._

"_Then let him come forth and speak to me," Kelios said._

_The Daleks hesitated for a few seconds longer, before gliding smoothly backwards. The hissing sound of hydraulics filled the air, as the entire side of the shuttle-craft slowly began to lower to the ground. Blinding red light glared from the opening. The thing that emerged was absolutely monstrous. Almost ten times the size of a regular Dalek, its gargantuan head was supported by a tripod style casing. Clearly visible within the casing was a blue-lit tank, containing the writhing, octopus-like mutant that was the only organic component of the Dalek. There was no visible weaponry, but two robotic grasper arms extended from beneath the mutant tank, while an enormous eye-stalk protruded from the head, rotating back and forth, constantly surveying its surroundings. There was something obscene about the massive, bloated figure, something wrong, something utterly horrifying. Just by existing, it seemed to bring with it a wave of terror. The Master could feel all the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, a cold arrow of fear lodging somewhere deep within his vital organs. Beside him, Damon swore under his breath in shock, while the Doctor tensed like a coiled spring. _

_Supported by a cushion of air, as light as a feather despite its imposing bulk, it floated forward, before descending gracefully to the floor._

"_I am the Em-per-or of the Da-leks," it rasped, its staccato voice booming throughout the still air of the room._

_For an instant, even Kelios seemed taken aback by the sheer, unbridled menace of the thing he had allowed on board his ship. But then he gathered himself together and responded, "Welcome, Dalek Emperor. I am Kelios, eldest son and heir of the Gallifreyan House of Oakdown."_

"_This is a lie," the Dalek Emperor said flatly. "The Da-leks have detailed files on all the Time Lords. Our data shows that the heir of the House of Oakdown is the Time Lord known as the Master. The Da-leks have had dealings with him before. You, the Da-leks do not know. You are not a Time Lord."_

_Kelios's entire body visibly stiffened with rage at the insult. "I might not be a Time Lord, but I built this ship!" he shouted. "I created the Nightmare Child. I created the Skaro Degradations and the Horde of Travesties. And I created the most devastating weapon of all. I hold it in my hand. The Moment. The means by which the Dalek race can win the War and destroy the Time Lords forever. So it's me you have to negotiate with – only me, and no-one else!"_

"_The Da-leks do not negotiate with inferior species," the Dalek Emperor replied contemptuously. "We will take the Moment and the Cruciform. You will co-operate with the Da-leks. You will obey all Da-lek orders."_

"_Or WHAT?" Kelios sneered._

"_Or you will be ex-ter-min-ated!"_

_Even as the Emperor spoke, a dozen more Dalek soldiers emerged from the shuttle, their lethal weapons ready to fire. At the same time, there was a sharp, metallic snapping noise, as Kelios's droids simultaneously took up a combat pose, levelling their lasers at the swarming Daleks._

"_Don't bother threatening me, you jumped-up tin can!" Kelios said coldly. "This isn't just any Gallifreyan ship. This is the Cruciform. And those droids are made of zybanium alloy, completely impervious to Dalek weaponry. You WILL negotiate with me, whether you like it or not. Or I will give the order to destroy you."_

_The Emperor's huge eyestalk tilted down to observe the Shabogan closely, like an insect under a microscope. "Our spies have informed us of this zybanium alloy. Our weapons have been upgraded. We are not impaired," it replied, a hint of triumph in its metallic voice. "EXTERMINATE!"_

_Immediately, the air was filled with the sound of explosions as the Daleks opened fire. "Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!" The droids tried to fight back, but the superior Dalek weaponry sliced through their zybanium armour like a hot knife through butter. One by one, the hapless robots were hit and turned into dust._

"_No!" Kelios screamed, seeing his army disintegrate around him._

"_The Da-leks have taken control of the Cruciform," the Emperor said. "You will obey all Da-lek orders."_

"_I still have the Moment," Kelios said, brandishing the transparent container arrogantly above his head. "I was going to allow you to wipe the Time Lords from existence before I destroyed the Dalek Empire, but you've given me no choice - now I will annihilate you first!"_

_From his vantage point up above, the Master stared down at the small, black sphere in his half-brother's hands. He could hear it calling to him. It was part of him and it wanted to return to its Master. Even from this distance, the surface of the sphere seemed to shift and move, like an oil slick rippling across an inky ocean. For one brief instant, he thought he saw his father's tortured face, screaming like the damned in an inferno of flame. _

"_Kelios is mad!" Damon was saying in horror. "We have to stop him. He's got no idea how the Moment works. If he tries to use it, he could wipe out the entire Universe!"_

"_It isn't his to use," the Master bit out, before rising suddenly to his feet._

"_Master, what are you doing?" the Doctor demanded._

_But the Master ignored him. His voice cracked out across the landing bay like the lash of a whip, commanding the attention of everybody in the room. "I am the Master and the Moment is mine."_

_One pair of Shabogan eyes and a dozen Dalek eyestalks spun around to glare up at him in surprise._

"_Koschei!" Kelios snarled. "No, this isn't possible!"_

_Before the Shabogan could react, the transparent container in his hands shattered into a thousand pieces and the Moment rose slowly into the air. The Master held his hand out high, his palm flat, his skin shimmering now with golden artron energy._

"_You're regenerating!" the Doctor exclaimed in an awed voice._

_In response to his silent summons, the Moment floated gently across to the Master and settled delicately into his outstretched palm, as if returning to the place it belonged. _

"_NO!" Kelios cried in demented rage. "You can't do this to me!"_

_And at the very same second, the avalanche of advancing ice finally caught up with them, erupting into the room with an almost animalistic roar and climbing the walls in a snapping, crackling deluge of frost._

"_Retreat!" the golden Daleks screeched, immediately recognising a danger even they couldn't exterminate. "Safeguard the Emperor! RETREAT!"_

_Obeying the command, all the Daleks began to pile back into the shuttle as fast as they could, including the Emperor. Without waiting to see what happened next, the Doctor leapt to his feet and slung the Master's arm around his shoulder, as the entire room began to shudder. "Help me, Damon! The Cruciform's about to destroy itself. We have to get out of here."_

_Without arguing for once, Damon took the Master's other side and together the three of them began to run for the door._

"_This isn't over, Koschei!" Kelios howled, backing away from the ice sweeping towards him. "IT WILL NEVER BE OVER!"_

_The Master clenched his fist tightly around the cold circumference of the Moment. Calling the sphere back to him had cost him the last of his energy reserves. His regeneration was happening and he could no longer stop it. The hurried journey back to the TARDIS passed in a terrible blur. The Doctor and Damon were virtually carrying him, his entire weight supported by their shoulders. Agonising pain racked him from head to toe, strange explosions of artron energy detonating everywhere, right throughout his body. He couldn't understand it. He'd been through so many regenerations, but it had never felt like this before._

_At last, they reached the tall blue police box, now coated in a sparkling, fairytale curtain of white hoar frost._

"_Just in the nick of time!" the Doctor exclaimed, unlocking the door with his key and shoving it open. _

_The three of them tumbled inside amid a shower of glittering ice, and the Doctor ran to the console, already reaching for the de-materialisation lever. The Master fell heavily to the floor, screaming in pain. The glow of his artron energy was all around him now. But something was wrong. The normally steady emanation was flickering, alternating between gold and black. Alarmed, Damon backed away, staring at him in consternation. Spasms of agony twisted The Master's body. Without conscious thought, his hand twitched open, and the Moment rolled away on to the floor of the TARDIS._

_The Doctor's worried face swam into view, distorted by the Master's wavering vision._

"_It's going wrong!" he gasped out. "The regeneration – it's going wrong!"_

_He felt the other Time Lord's cool fingers moving to probe his temples. Then the Doctor's mind was inside his, almost submerged in the overwhelming tumult of the wild drumbeat and the shrieks of the dying ship._

"_It's the Cruciform. It won't let you go!" the Doctor said tensely. "It's trying to take you with it. It's causing your regeneration to fail."_

_His face disappeared and the Master screamed again. The pain was like nothing he'd ever known before. "Make it stop, Doctor! Make it STOP!"_

_When the Doctor reappeared, he was holding a headset, which was attached by long wires to the TARDIS console. "I'm sorry, Master. Really, I'm so sorry," he said, fitting the device securely on to the Master's head._

"_What are you doing?" the Master demanded, suddenly more afraid than ever._

"_I have to separate you from the Cruciform, or it's going to kill you. I need to remove all memory of it from your mind," the Doctor replied. "The Chameleon Arch is the only way to protect you during your regeneration."_

"_Don't you DARE!" the Master growled, struggling for breath against the excruciating agony tearing through him. "Don't you even THINK about turning me human!"_

"_It's the only way," the Doctor repeated sorrowfully. "Like I said, I'm really so very sorry."_

_And he flicked the switch..._

With a jolt, the Master realised he was back in the present. The last memory...the last key to what had really happened to him back during the Time War. The truth of how he had become Professor Yana and ended up stranded at the furthest edge of the Universe.

All around him, whirling inside the thought bubble, he could hear the echo of his own insane laughter. The light was no longer red, but deep, impenetrable black. With a chill of horror, he realised that when he had let go of the Moment in the memory vision, he had also let go of his constraints over the shadow creature in reality. The thing was finally free to do whatever it wanted.

_Oh, I'm going to ENJOY being you! _his own voice taunted him.

He had just enough time for one last, anguished thought.

_Ana..._

Then the darkness crushed him like an iron fist.

* * *

><p>Tejana's hands were trembling. She couldn't seem to stop them shaking, no matter how hard she tried. She unclenched her tightly furled fists and stared down at her palms. The vermilion light of the setting sun seemed to stain her pale skin, shimmering blood red like a tell tale sign of murder. In the end, unable to bear it any more, she clasped her hands tightly together behind her back, where she couldn't see them. <em>That's what you get for throwing someone off a cliff<em>, she told herself bitterly. _What did you expect?_ _ Just because it was someone you didn't like very much. Just because you had no choice. It still doesn't change what you did._

But the Chaos-Master was coming and what was done could not now be undone. A sensation of utter dread crept through her. She had an acute vision of what the creature would see when it arrived:- a tiny figure standing alone on the rough mountainside; her long, copper hair falling in loose, matted tangles past her waist; the pale oval of her face smudged with dirt and tears; the short silken tunic, now filthy and torn beyond repair; her slender, bare arms and legs, covered with scratches and bruises, the Mark of the Master more livid than ever on her right ankle; and, worst of all, the gleaming silver slave jewellery, still encircling her neck and her wrists. So very small and so very exposed. Defenceless. Beaten. Nothing more than a slave, waiting for her Master.

The presence of the _Cruciform _was all around her now. It called to her, the very essence of corruption and beguilement. It sang to her of pleasure and desire and power and the freedom to do whatever she wanted, without any boundaries or constraints. She closed her eyes, unconsciously swaying to the sensual song of temptation only she could hear, welcoming the familiar four beat rhythm that throbbed seductively deep within her mind, keeping time with the pulsing of her hearts.

And when she opened her eyes again, the Chaos-Master stood before her, as dark and ominous as the oncoming night.

"_Numi tiar_, Ana," it said, greeting her in perfect Gallifreyan.

There was no longer anything insubstantial about it. It was solid, corporeal...real. If she hadn't known any better, she would never have been able to tell the difference between it and the real Master. But she did know better. She could feel the immense heat emanating from it, stroking across her skin. Not the clean, golden heat of a dancing flame, but the dark, velvety, intimate heat generated between lovers in the long reaches of the night. With every cell in her body, Tejana found herself longing to reach out and wrap that heat around her, like a blanket.

"_Numi tiar...Mekhil...,_" she responded huskily. _Hello, Master..._

At the sound of her lifemate's name on her lips, the Chaos-Master smiled triumphantly at her, and her hearts shattered a little further. That beautiful, white, dangerous smile, so familiar, so loved. _His_ smile.

"So, here she is...my beautiful Ana, all alone," the creature mocked. To her surprise, even though her protection was gone, it didn't try to touch her in any way. With a shudder, she realised it was enjoying the anticipation far too much, savouring the victory of the moment. "But where is your valiant escort? Where is Captain Hart?"

Her breath caught painfully in her throat. There it was, the question she had been anticipating, the question that required an answer. The most important question of all. She brought her hands out from behind her back and looked down at them. They were still shaking. The red light of the dying sun had vanished now and dark shadows crept across her palms. Staring at them, she couldn't think, couldn't remember exactly what had happened between herself and Hart. All she could see was the red-jacketed figure plunging towards the deadly rocks, thousands of feet below. "I...I don't know," she said in a confused voice, like a little child wondering how things could ever have gone so wrong. "He was here, but then he was gone. I think...I think I might have done something...bad."

"Something bad?" the Chaos-Master crooned gently, moving closer to her and murmuring into her ear. "What did you do, Ana? Tell me."

_The cliff. The sharp push. The long, long fall..._

"I...think...I think I...might have...killed him," she choked out. "He was...standing on the edge over there. I think...I might have..._pushed_ him!" Her hands curled convulsively back into fists. "No, that's not right. It can't be. I wouldn't..._I couldn't!_"

"Oh, but I really believe you could, Ana," the Chaos-Master grinned. "You don't give yourself enough credit, my darling wife. Don't forget how well I know you. You like to think of your soul as the colour grey – not black, not white, but walking a careful line somewhere in between. But the truth is, there is no such thing as the colour grey. There's just white that somewhere along the way has become dirty and smudged." With that, the creature's hand shot out and grasped her around the wrist, touching her for the very first time. Tejana gasped. Shock rippled up her arm. The fingers that gripped her were warm and alive, the sensation making her skin tingle, just as touching the real Master had always done. "So...let's see just how dirty you've allowed your soul to become, shall we?"

Pulling her by the wrist, it began to drag her across to the edge of the precipice.

"No!" she screamed, desperately digging her heels into the ground, fighting all the way, knowing only too well the grisly sight waiting at the bottom of the cliff. "NO! I don't want to look. _ I don't want to see!_"

But the Chaos-Master merely laughed at her struggles, its other hand coming up to seize her by the back of the neck, forcibly propelling her forward. Down below, so very far away, in the white light of the rising moon, she could see the broken body, twisted and bleeding on the dark rocks, the head smashed open like an over-ripe melon.

Her free hand came up to cover her mouth, as though she was about to be sick. "Oh, stars!" she whispered. "Hart!"

The Chaos-Master snickered. "Poor Captain Hart! I bet he never even saw that coming, did he? How does it feel, Ana, to have killed your first human in cold blood?"

Tejana tore herself free, backing away in horror, tears pouring down her face. "_You_ did this! You made me do it! The psychic pollen..."

"Oh no, my Ana," the creature said, coming after her, step by step, stalking her like a cat. "You're not going to get away with it that easily. That's not what this is about at all. The psychic pollen only brings out what's already there inside you. This is about you finally realising who you truly are, who you were born to be. My perfect mate. My wife. My slave."

Every honeyed word seemed to wrap around her like the sticky threads of a spider web, pulling her in deeper and deeper. Stubborn to the end, she shook her head in denial, still backing away. "The real Master..."

"I _am_ the real Master," it hissed. "I am the _only_ Master. The other, the one that was trapped inside the thought bubble, has been destroyed. He is gone forever and I am all of him that remains."

Tejana could hear an enormous roaring in her ears, as though a massive tidal wave of pain was sweeping towards her. _Tick tock, goes the clock, time runs ever faster. Tick tock, goes the clock, especially for the Master. _"No!" she snarled frantically, trying to push down the crippling fear that was rising inside her. "No, that isn't true. You're _lying_! The prophecy of the Ruach said I could save him. 'In the hands of the woman rests the fate of the man', that's what was foretold!"

"You didn't really believe that, did you?" the Chaos-Master sneered. "All that esoteric nonsense about the Spirit of the Universe? Surely even you couldn't be that naïve. We're Time Lords, Ana. We only believe in what we can see and hear and touch. The Ruach is nothing more than a ridiculous children's fairytale."

Tejana's chin came up proudly. "_I'm_ a Time Lord. You're just a..._thing_. You don't get to tell me what I believe!"

The creature's eyes narrowed in menace. "I am the Master. You are my wife. From now on, you will believe anything I tell you to believe." Reaching out, it cupped her cheek with its hand, its thumb caressing her soft skin. "Don't you understand yet, Ana? I am the only reality left in the Universe. My will is all that matters. Now that I am free, I can use the power of the _Cruciform_ to manipulate the very fabric of time and space as I choose, not just inside the ship itself, but as I grow stronger, right across the constellations, with nothing more than a thought. Whatever that I can imagine will be realised. Shall I demonstrate?"

A shiver passed through Tejana from head to toe. _Oh gods, that suggestive stroking, trailing softly down her face to the vulnerable underside of her neck...it felt so much like the real Koschei, exactly the same way he had always touched her, sensual and erotic, but with just that hint of underlying threat, the dark, electric edge of excitement...he couldn't be dead, he couldn't be..._

Concentrating hard, she fought to resist the beckoning seduction of the creature's touch. Somehow, she had to manage to hold on to herself, for just a little longer...

"What...what do you mean, demonstrate?" she quavered. "What are you going to do?"

* * *

><p>A small piece of rock crumbled under the shadowy climber's left boot, the stony fragments rattling and rolling away down the cliff face, before vanishing silently into the yawning abyss, a bleak reminder of just how far there was to fall if he slipped. As if he needed reminding, he thought grimly to himself, sweat soaking through his T-shirt as he carefully readjusted his position, his cramped fingers digging into the tenuous handholds he had so painstakingly found. After all, he was hardly likely to forget, was he? Not while he was clinging like a goddamned limpet to an almost sheer cliff in the gathering dark. No, what he needed reminding of was how he had got here in the first place, just so that he would never, ever end up making the same mistake again. <em>Bloody woman<em>. What was she going to cost him next? First his samurai sword, then his precious Hussar's jacket...

"_No! No, Tejana, listen to me! Concentrate!" he shouted desperately, glancing over his shoulder at the long drop below. "There was a young Time Agent of note, who was found in bed with a goat. His partner said, 'Jack!, if you don't put it back...'"_

_"Too late for that I'm afraid, John," Tejana interrupted, flexing her fingers. "Much, much too late."_

_Her hand snaked out towards him at what seemed like the speed of light and he took an instinctive, fatal step backwards. For an endless moment, he fought for balance on the very edge of the mountain, his own maddened heartbeat pounding in his ears as the empty arms of the air coiled around him, seeking to snatch him down to a gory death. _

_And then Tejana's hand closed on the material of his jacket and dragged him back to safety._

"_Watch it!" she exclaimed. "You nearly fell then, you idiot."_

_He glared at her incredulously, his breath rasping from his throat in short, sharp little pants as he backed warily away from her. "Funnily enough, I kind of thought that was the point!" he snarled accusingly. "'I'm sorry, John, I'm so, so sorry...' - what the HELL was that all about?"_

_Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You thought I was really trying to KILL you? Hart, if I wanted you dead, you'd be lying back on the floor of the Cruciform gutted with your own sword. When I said I was sorry, I was talking about your jacket. I know how attached you are to it, but I need you to give it to me, and quickly."_

"_My JACKET? What for?"_

"_The Chaos-Master is coming, right now. We don't have enough time for both of us to reach the top of the mountain. If I can convince it that I've willingly embraced the darkness, I may be able to stall it for a while. It needs to think that I've obeyed its command and killed you. And while it's distracted with me, you can reach the converter and do what needs to be done."_

"_Great plan. Except that I don't KNOW what needs to be done!" Hart growled._

"_I'll tell you. I know you're a lot more intelligent than you let on, John. If anyone can do this, you can." With that, she turned and raced back to Matthias's body, still sprawled on the path, haloed in the scarlet rays of the fast-sinking sun. Quickly and efficiently, she began stripping off the dead man's homespun peasant jerkin, before concealing it behind a pile of rocks at the side of the path. Her face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, as if Matthias was a plastic mannequin rather than a murdered human being, covered in blood. This was the Tejana Hart remembered from Torchwood – the Tejana with the ruthless, practical streak; the Tejana that didn't hesitate to do what had to be done. Suddenly, his brain seemed to kick into gear and her plan became completely clear to him._

"_Oh, no!" he said, raising an admonitory finger and pointing it at her. "You are not...I repeat, NOT...going to put my jacket on some random dead body and toss it over the cliff!"_

"_I told you, the Chaos-Master needs to think you're dead. If it gets the slightest inkling of what we're planning, I won't be able to stop it coming after you! And then you really will be dead!" she snapped, her green eyes blazing. "So give me the damn jacket!"_

_Everything she said made absolute sense, he knew that. But still he hesitated. It was stupid, perhaps, but his Hussar's jacket was much more to him than just a piece of clothing. He'd been wearing it for so long that it had almost become part of him. It helped to define who he was, it was part of what made him Captain John Hart. Giving it up was like cutting off an arm or a leg. He wasn't sure he would still be him without it. But then he remembered the cold murder in the Chaos-Master's brown eyes and he decided that it was better to be alive without the jacket than dead with it. Reluctantly, with the air of one saying a tragic goodbye to an old friend, he shrugged out of it and handed it to her._

"_I'll buy you another one after this is all over, I promise!" Tejana told him, thrusting Matthias's unresisting arms into the sleeves. Hart had to admit, it was a surprisingly good fit. The dead man was very similar to him in both height and build._

"_Princess, that jacket is vintage," he said mournfully. "You can't just buy another one. It's one of a kind."_

"_One way or another, it's going over the cliff!" she replied, her tone taut with tension and utterly devoid of sympathy. "So who would you prefer to be wearing it? You or him?"_

"_Well, if you put it that way..."_

"_I do," she insisted. "Now, help me."_

_Bending over, Hart took Matthias under the arms. Tejana grabbed his feet, and the two of them hauled the body to the edge of the cliff. Talk about a dead weight, Hart thought ruefully. It might be only an urban legend, but in his experience, death always seemed to stack the kilos on people, especially when you had to dispose of the corpse in a hurry._

"_Stand him up, so that I can push him," Tejana instructed breathlessly. "Pride and arrogance are the Chaos-Master's prime weaknesses, just like the real Koschei. But it isn't stupid. This has to look as realistic as possible."_

_As it happened, this wasn't the first time Hart had faked his own death. There wasn't much he hadn't done in his rollercoaster of a life - before, during and after the Time Agency - and being dead was a tried and true conman's method of getting out of trouble. But the idea of doing it in collaboration with Tejana just seemed...well, weird. Nevertheless, he did as he was told without arguing, balancing Matthias's limp form upright on the very edge of the precipice. Tejana gave a sharp shove in the middle of the dead man's red-jacketed back and the corpse fell forward into the void. For a few eerie seconds, it almost seemed to hang there in midair, silhouetted against the setting sun, as though Matthias was floating. Then the illusion broke and the body plummeted like a stone, falling and falling to the jagged mountainside far below, where it smashed horribly into the waiting rocks. It looked realistic, all right. So realistic that Hart almost expected him to scream all the way down. Instead, all they could hear was a leaden silence, interrupted only by the soft, indecipherable moaning of the breeze. _

_Hart swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. From this distance, wearing his distinctive jacket, the mangled body really did look disturbingly like him. He had never been particularly scared of dying. Everybody had to die sometime - unless, of course, you were Jack. But, right at that moment, if he'd had the choice, any other form of death in the Universe, other than falling off a mountain, would have been infinitely preferable to him._

_Tejana turned to face him, her expression still detached and unreadable, giving absolutely no hint that she had just hurled a dead body off a cliff. Hart couldn't help feeling a touch of professional admiration. Holy shit, but she'd make an excellent con artist, he found himself thinking. Maybe there's a chance we can pull this one off after all._

"_OK," she said curtly. "Listen carefully. When you find the atmospheric converter, this is what you need to do..."_

Gingerly, he reached for another tiny indentation in the rock and pulled himself up higher, trying not to wince at the multiple cuts and bruises that stung his palms. _Bloody woman!_ he thought again. _Bloody Time Lords!_ Not only did they have to go and transform Jack from one of the best thieves in all the galaxies into some sort of obsessed, self-sacrificing hero, but now they'd actually managed to get Captain John Hart climbing an almost vertical cliff face in the dark, trying to find some sort of infernal weather machine, all in the name of saving the Universe. How the hell had he let that happen?

He knew there was no point in worrying about that now. After all, it was a bit late to wonder if there had been a better way up the mountain when you were already free-falling off the rocky heights. But holding on to the anger helped, it kept him moving. And it stopped him thinking about the small, fragile figure he had left behind down below, waiting alone to face the horror of the Chaos-Master. He wasn't worried about her, that bloody woman, not a bit. The little hellcat could look after herself, she'd proven that over and over again. It wasn't as if he had abandoned or betrayed her this time, anyway. This was_ her _plan, he was only doing what she had asked him to do. And besides, there was no way the Chaos-Master would harm her – it wanted her as its wife and it wanted her unborn son. No, he wasn't worried at all, she'd be fine. Absolutely, perfectly fine. And even if she wasn't, so what? All he cared about was getting out of this mess with his own skin intact. Nothing else mattered to him. Nothing else and _no-one_ else.

Aware that he was trying much too hard to convince himself, he tilted his head back and stared upwards. The last traces of sunset had vanished and the huge white moon had begun to rise into the night, bathing the mountainside in a ghostly glow, painted here and there with shadow. He was very close to the top now, he could see it just above him. Just a few feet more of crumbling cliff to traverse and he would be there.

_And what if, when you finally make it, there's nothing there? What if Tejana was wrong, what will you do then? _He tried to shut the unsettling thought out, but the wind was whistling around his ears, making a sorrowful noise, like someone crying far away, and it kept on coming back.

"There once was a young man from China, who wasn't a very good climber," he said aloud, through gritted teeth, forcing his arms and legs to keep moving. "He slipped on a rock and knocked off his cock, so now he makes do with a vagina."

Hand over hand, foot over foot, conscious only of the shifting grit under his fingertips, the sliding shale cascading under his boots, he edged his way up the last little stretch of the mountainside.

And, in the end, he was so busy trying to concentrate only on the physical demands of the climb that he hardly even noticed as the moonlight changed...

* * *

><p>"Do you remember the moonlight on Gallifrey, Ana?" the Chaos-Master asked.<p>

Staring up into the beautiful chocolate-brown eyes so close to her own, Tejana struggled to keep in mind where she was and exactly who – or more correctly, _what_ - she was with.

"Of course I remember," she whispered.

The moon of Gallifrey had been unique, different to the satellites of any other planet she had ever visited. It had always seemed huge and it was always full, its orbit perfectly synchronised with that of Gallifrey, so that from the view-point of the Time Lord Citadel, it had never appeared to wax or wane. But most of all, she remembered the colour. A deep, stunning, amaranthine purple, glowing like a romantic jewel in the star-spangled night sky. Standing in the cold, white light of Mnemosyne's rising moon, both Tejana's hearts seemed to ache at the poignant memory. Until now, she had never realised just how much she missed those lush, purple-tinted nights. All gone now, lost forever, just like the rest of her home planet.

"Wouldn't you like to see it again?" the Chaos-Master inquired, as though reading the sudden longing in her face.

Without waiting for an answer, it closed its eyes and tilted its head back slightly. Overhead, Tejana saw an odd, swirly spot forming in the centre of the pearl-like disc of the moon. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision, but it was still there. It was almost imperceptible at first, like a tiny, insignificant bruise. But then it began to spread quickly in a violet-coloured tide. Little by little, the pure white illumination of the moon was extinguished, engulfed by the encroaching purple until the entire mountainside around them was bathed in pale, delicate, mauve-coloured light.

"Oh gods!" Tejana cried, looking upwards in frozen shock at the perfect replica of Gallifrey's moon. "What have you done?"

"Perhaps now you understand," the Chaos-Master said, opening its eyes again. "I am the Master of all matter. Once I have reached my full power, a new Gallifrey in the heavens will be mere child's play to me." As it spoke, its heated fingers trailed down her bare arms, stroking slowly, so very slowly, until she whimpered in her throat at the sensual touch. Helplessly, as though drawn by a powerful magnet, her eyes were pulled back down from the sky to drown in the creature's compelling gaze. A wicked, knowing smile spread across the handsome face.

"So...tell me, Ana...," it said, in a voice as soft and seductive as silk. "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

And then it pulled her into its arms and kissed her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another author's note:<strong>_

_**Ha ha, you didn't really think I'd killed him, did you? Ladies and gentlemen, you will always remember this as the day Brownbug ALMOST killed Captain John Hart!  
><strong>_

_**This is the first time I've ever written the Daleks, so any feedback on the Time War flashback would be terrific!  
><strong>_

_**And a virtual cookie to anyone who spots my latest Jack Nicholson quote - that guy gets the best one-liners, seriously!  
><strong>_


	34. Chapter 34

****_**Author's Note: Hi all! Wow, I've reached Chapter 34. This is the first time I've ever had a Chapter 34, so woo hoo! Big thanks to everyone who reviewed since my last posting, especially those who did a big catch-up. So, thanks to: anon, EmmaMarie, TheRealMrsWonka, Lost Moon, Theta'sWorstNightmare, MayFairy, MountainLord-92, SawManiac211, Aietradaea, mdwhofan, Lexy Summers, Geraldine, Ahsilaa, irishartemis, xxTeam-Masterxx (x 7) and KlinicallyInsaneKoschei (x 4).  
><strong>_

_**Congrats to those who spotted the Jack Nicholson reference. It was indeed, "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?", from his role as the Joker in Batman. Extra cookies to those who spotted the Pirates of the Caribbean" reference in my author's note!**_

_**Just as a side note, while I was so sick, I had to remove quite a few stories from my alert list, because I couldn't keep up with them and my inbox kept getting clogged. If your story was one of those, I apologise, please don't take it personally to you or your story. Hopefully, now that I am getting well again, I will be able to read more and catch up on some of the stuff I have missed.  
><strong>_

_**Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR<strong>

"_The thing is, see...whenever the real Master wants to persuade me to do something, the very first thing he always does is to touch me, because he knows that physical contact between us makes it much harder for me to refuse him..."_

The words seemed to swell and echo in the air around them, words that Tejana had told the Chaos-Master herself. Only now was she starting to realise that one of the most frightening aspects of the creature was its ability to assimilate information and adapt. In the beginning, when it had first manifested inside the _Cruciform_, it had been nothing more than a crude copy of the Master, a simple matter to distinguish from the real thing. But since then, it had listened and learned. Oh, how well it had learned...

Determined to ensnare her into giving herself freely, wanting her to subjugate herself utterly through her own choice, it brought to bear the entire hypnotic power of the _Cruciform. _Searching her stolen memories, it pulled out all the stops, zeroed in on everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever dreamed of, and poured it into the heated contact between their bodies.

_So tell me, Ana...have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight...? _

Tejana felt the tremendous pull of it, right down to the very marrow of her bones, knowing that this was one devil she would always want to dance with, in every Gallifreyan sense of the word. The erotic lead-up to the kiss back inside the _Cruciform_ had been impressive enough, but the kiss itself was magnificent, a fairy tale come true. Standing in the purple Gallifreyan moonlight with her handsome lover, his arms holding her so close, his mouth intimately exploring hers with a deep, enticing sensuality that was designed to hold her spellbound, arousing an intense, spreading pleasure that burned all the way through her from head to toe...

Without volition, she found herself closing her eyes and giving herself up to the feelings, both her hearts surging with emotion. Oh gods, this was how they _should_ have been, she and the Master, in the timeline that had been taken from them so long ago; this was her perfect, idyllic, longed-for dream, a chimera of happiness, forever crystallised in the Could-Have-Been...

Yet, as beautiful and tempting as the incredible sensations were, in bringing to life that very perfection, the Chaos-Master had just unwittingly made a very big mistake. Because, from the very beginning, Tejana's life had never once been about perfection. It had always been about rough edges and hidden pitfalls and underlying conflict. Her relationship with the Master had never been some fluffy, fairytale romance. It was difficult and raw and tumultuous and gritty. It was _real_. When they made love, it wasn't sweet and soft and smooth. It was much more cyclonic, hot and hungry and overwhelming, full of need; two strong, powerful personalities colliding and striving for sexual dominance – a struggle the Master usually won, granted, but not easily, not without a fight.

Tejana had already spent far too much of her life restlessly searching for something to fill the emptiness inside her. She had seen the very best the Universe had to offer and the very worst. But for the first time ever, she was confident she had found what she was looking for and was content with exactly what she had. Because that was the strange thing, the contradictory truth that a manufactured creature like the Chaos-Master would never understand – real people's desires were always a lot more complex than you first thought. As soon as you managed to scratch the surface of one, you tended to find that there were a lot more quite different ones underneath. And the bottom line was, however much Tejana might secretly dream about perfection, she didn't really trust it or want it.

And this was most definitely _not_ her Master.

Holding on to that thought like a lifeline, a small, cold part of her mind stood aside from the pleasure and struggled to determine just how much of this was real. She could definitely feel every inch of the Chaos-Master's body pressed against her own. But she wasn't sure whether those sensations were real, or if it was all inside her own head, drawn from her memories and dreams of the Master. Just how corporeal was the Chaos-Master? How physical had it managed to become?

_Only one way to find out, _she told herself grimly. Summoning all her strength, she drove her knee up into the creature's groin.

The tactic worked like a charm, just as it had back in the village. For some reason, it seemed no-one ever expected small, fragile-looking women to be able to physically fight back. The Chaos-Master howled in pain and shock. Releasing her, it doubled over in agony, gasping for breath.

_Real enough down there, then! _she decided, backing away. In one way, that was good, because it meant that the creature could be hurt. But in other ways, it was not so good, because the more tangible it became, the less reliant it was on the psychic pollen to exist. If Hart didn't find the atmospheric converter soon...

_Oh, stars, _she thought, with a renewed wave of despair. _I can't believe I'm relying on John Bloody Hart to save the Universe!_

Turning, she began to sprint back down the winding path, still intent on keeping the Chaos-Master's attention as far away from the top of the mountain as she could. The one other thing her life had always contained in abundance was running. For almost as long as she could remember, she had run with the Doctor – running away from things, running towards things, running just for the sake of running... Right now, it seemed like just as good a plan as any of the others she currently had available.

She didn't even see the blow coming. One minute she was pelting down the mountainside, the next a stunning pain exploded against her cheek, throwing her backwards to the ground. Everything inside her head seemed to rattle around, bouncing off the insides of her skull like balls in a pinball machine, complete with intermittent flashes of bright, white pain. Tears streaked down her face as she forced her eyes open and tried to focus her blurred vision. The dark figure of the Chaos-Master stood blocking the path, its arms folded as it glared down at her. It had obviously materialised directly in front of her and struck her across the face. Physical form or not, it appeared it had unfairly retained the ability to manipulate spatial dimensions, even outside the _Cruciform_ itself.

Tejana closed her eyes again and held her breath, hoping the world would stop spinning. Some days, she just couldn't catch a break. Her mouth was already swelling, blood seeping slowly from a cut on her lower lip. Oddly, she felt dark laughter bubbling up in the back of her throat. It wasn't really funny, though, not at all. More like ironic, really. This whole situation was so reminiscent of the other time the Master had back-handed her, on board the _Valiant, _just after she had tried to kill him with his own laser screwdriver. The Doctor had always said that Time was circular, a "great big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff". It looked like the Chaos-Master was setting out to prove him right.

"You just won't give in, will you, my darling? Stubborn to the very end," it snarled. "Perhaps we're going to have to do this the hard way after all."

"I just bet you're about to order me to kneel before my Lord and Master, right?" she asked, her voice dripping with acid. "And that's when I get to tell you that I'm a Time Lady and I don't kneel."

The Chaos-Master smiled tightly. "You will kneel. And you will do it willingly. It's only a matter of when."

_It's growing impatient_, she realised with a stab of insight. _I'm not going to be able to hold its attention for much longer like this. Somehow I have to think of a way to buy some more time._

The answer was obvious, of course. If she allowed it to kiss her again, if she allowed it to touch her, to take her... The thought was so tempting, so insidious...and she slammed it down as hard as she could, instinctively knowing that if she went down that path, there would be no way back for her. She would be lost forever in darkness, even if John Hart did succeed in his mission. No, she had to think of some _other _way to distract it, some way to keep it talking.

"You really need to get some new lines!" she retorted, pushing herself up to a sitting position. "Why is it so important to you that I come to you willingly? Why all the games? You have five million grains of psychic pollen at your command. You and I both know that you can easily break my mind and force me to do anything you want me to."

"Because I don't want a mindless, gibbering zombie for a wife," the Chaos-Master snarled. "I want Lady Tejanakaturadilena of the House of Lungbarrow, last of the Time Ladies of Gallifrey. And when at last I face the Doctor in the final battle for all of Creation, I want him to see you standing at my side, so that he will know his own daughter has chosen my reality over his. And it will _destroy_ him." Smoothly, the creature crouched down beside her. "Does that surprise you, Ana?" it taunted, its eyes glittering with malice. "That one of his reasons for wanting you so badly was to hurt your father?"

Tejana stared back at it, watching it in the same way a small rodent might watch an approaching anaconda. Slowly, she shook her head, refusing to allow the barbed words to get to her. As much as this particular truth might sting, she had always known of it. She could hardly have shared so much history with both the Doctor and the Master and not been aware of it. Their everlasting competitiveness was so deeply ingrained by now that it would always form one of the strands in her relationship with the Master, no matter how far they pushed it into the background. But that was exactly the point...it was only _one_ of the strands. And, whatever the Chaos-Master wanted her to think, it wasn't the most important, not even close. But it gave her an idea about what to say next. The Master had always tried to sow discord between her and her father. Perhaps if the Chaos-Master thought it had succeeded...

One of the first rules any new companion came to learn when travelling in her father's TARDIS was that 'the Doctor lies'. Her father made no secret of it, nor did he apologise for it. For him, the truth was more of a reference point than an absolute – everything beyond that he considered to be extremely flexible and subject to his own judgement. Maybe it was something that was genetic, something in the Lungbarrow blood, because what was a little less widely known was that the Doctor's daughter was also very accomplished at skirting around the truth when the occasion called for it. And she couldn't think of an occasion that called for it more than this one.

"So?" she countered. "Does it surprise you that maybe one of _my_ reasons for wanting _him_ was also to hurt the Doctor?"

The Chaos-Master frowned and she guessed that this had probably never occurred to the real Master, thanks to his monumental ego. "After all," she continued. "What better way to get back at him for being a lousy father than by sleeping with his oldest enemy?"

She couldn't hope to deceive the Chaos-Master with a direct lie about her father, not while the _Cruciform_ had access to all her memories. But what she said had a grain of truth in it, just a grain. And it was enough to enable her to dance with the Devil.

"You were the one who made me see it. How much anger and resentment I had buried inside, how much hatred. He left me when I was a child. He never came to save me when I was being tortured and abused. He refused to destroy the Daleks on Skaro when he had the chance and then he allowed the Daleks to destroy everything I ever loved. He wiped my entire planet from the sky, murdered my people in a hail of fire and brimstone. What loyalty could I possibly have to him?"

The Chaos-Master's eyes narrowed. "Save your tricks, Ana. They won't help you now. Like I told you, I know you far too well for that."

"What tricks?" she demanded bitterly. "You started all this, after all. You have all of my memories. You should be able to see just how many times he's let me down, how many times he's hurt me. If you need more proof, why don't you look up the ones about Rose Tyler?"

The creature hesitated for a moment, as if it was doing just that. "Ah yes," it murmured. "The human woman he always put first." Without warning, it reached towards her. Tejana flinched away, expecting another blow, but it merely wiped the trail of blood from her chin with a gentle touch. Raising its hand in the purple moonlight, it examined the dark red stain on its fingers, a strange, thoughtful expression on its face. "And I suppose you expect me to believe that you will betray your father because of that? That you will stand beside me as I conquer the Universe? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"No. What I'm saying is that I don't care what you do any more," she said. "Because if you've truly destroyed the Master...the _real_ Master..._my_ Master...if he's really dead, as you claim...then whatever you do won't matter. Why should I fight you? This planet, the Doctor, the entire Universe...if he's gone, none of it means anything at all. He was the only thing that was important to me."

The anguished quiver in her voice was not part of her deception. Apart from the bit about the Doctor, that statement had been far too close to the truth for comfort. _ I have to believe that Koschei is still alive,_ she told herself fiercely. _I have to believe that I can still save him! It's the only way I'm going to get through this!_

"He'll never be dead, as long as I exist," the Chaos-Master replied, as if it could hear her thoughts. "Inside the _Cruciform_, you said that you loved his darkness as much as his light, because it was part of him. All you need to do is accept me as your Master and I will make you Queen of the Universe."

"And supposing I do?" she shot back. "He could never defeat the Doctor. What makes you think you'll do any better?"

Rising to his feet, the Chaos-Master stretched its arms wide, like a circus ringmaster about to introduce his next act. To Tejana's horror, she saw a small ball of lurid red light forming in the starry night sky, spinning furiously.

"Because Chaos was always the father of Nightmare!" laughed the creature that looked like the Master.

And as she watched, the pulsating ball of light began to unfurl and expand, twisting and distorting as it transformed into one of the most terrible things the Universe had ever known, something that Tejana would rather have torn her eyes out than ever see again.

_The Nightmare Child! _she sobbed inwardly. _Oh gods, John...where are you?_

* * *

><p>High on the very top of the mountain, a pair of filthy, lacerated hands scrabbled over the crest, before the fingers dug in and managed to find a firm grip. Within moments, the rest of the exhausted Time Agent dragged himself to safety. At first he just lay there, sucking in huge, relieved gasps of air. But then he sat up abruptly and looked around. He had reached what appeared to be a flat plateau, treeless and empty, almost as if a giant hand had reached out and sliced the top off the mountain. There was nowhere else to climb. He was as high as he could go. Despite the altitude, it was still oppressively hot, even more so than down on the plains far below.<p>

_No snow_, he thought. _Why, in all the years I've lived here, did I never notice that there was no goddamn snow, even on the mountains?_

He didn't bother to answer his own question. He knew well enough why. Once he'd realised he was stranded on Mnemosyne, he had been much too focused on making himself as comfortable as he possibly could, forcing his way up through the heap until he reached the top, intent on looking after number one. All he'd been interested in was fighting, drinking and sex. And after that, a lot more fighting, drinking and sex. Anything over and above that had been irrelevant. He had accepted the humid climate at face value, just as he had accepted everything else on this shit-hole of a planet.

And now everything around him seemed to have taken on a weird violet tinge. A quick glance into the sky soon explained why. In the time it had taken him to climb the cliff, the enormous white disc of the moon had somehow turned purple. Hart stared upwards. Now _that_ had definitely never happened before, not once in the five years he had been on Mnemosyne. He was sure he wouldn't have missed something like that, even if he had been drunk. It was a beautiful sight, but incredibly eerie, almost ghostly. Something about it sent a shiver up his spine.

Tearing his eyes away from the spooky phenomenon, he began to check out his immediate surroundings. As disconcerting as the purple light was, at least it enabled him to see clearly enough in the darkness. A white grin split his grimy face. Right in the middle of the flat plateau was a large device shaped oddly like a flagpole, with a wide cylindrical base and a tall, slender spire jutting upwards into the night, about twice the height of a man.

"Hel-_lo_!" he exclaimed triumphantly. So the Pocket Rocket had been right after all, the atmospheric converter did exist! He could almost feel the power pulsing along the spire. It tingled on his skin like a charge of static electricity. "Oh, baby, you and me are gonna make sweet music together!"

Hurrying over to the device, he lost no time in locating the hatch set into the base. His wrist-strap was nearly dead, thanks to the fake energy cell Kelios had palmed off on to him. Nonetheless, there was just enough juice to spring the hatch open. A complex array of circuitry greeted his eyes. For an instant, he hesitated, dismayed by the sheer sophistication of the components. He was good with technology, but this was _way_ out of his league. Tejana had given him detailed instructions as to what he had to do – or as detailed as she could, in the short time they had available to them. He only hoped he could remember exactly what she had said. Taking a deep breath, he reached inside the device and began flipping switches, in the order she had told him.

Strangely, he found himself humming as he worked. It wasn't very helpful. In actual fact, it was bloody annoying, but he couldn't get the odd little tune out of his head. He was tugging carefully at one of the components, trying to loosen it, when the words finally came to him. It was a Christmas carol from twentieth century Earth.

"_...And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..."_

Grimly, he continued changing around the order of the components, marvelling at how lyrics that sounded so cheesy and trite back on Earth could sound much more like a desperate plea for salvation on Mnemosyne. Let it snow, indeed. Trying not to think of what might happen if Tejana's plan failed, he concentrated on the last few components. Just a couple more adjustments and he would be done. But had she said green to blue, or blue to green...?

Suddenly, for no discernible reason, he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. It was a sensation he knew better than to ignore. Something deadly was bearing down on him. Turning slowly, alert for any attack, he found his eyes drawn back up into the inky heavens. Directly above him, high in the sky, a bright spot of scarlet stained the darkness, swirling like translucent fire. _What the hell is that?_ he wondered. _Some sort of freaky-ass comet, to go with the voodoo moon?_

But the writhing red spot was not speeding through the sky like a comet. It remained constant, in the same place. And it seemed to be...growing...almost unfurling, like the petals of a poisonous flower. Mesmerised, he saw eight, enormous legs appear, thin and tapering and jointed, like a spider. But the thing wasn't a spider, because it also had a huge, plated scorpion 's tail curving over its back, tipped with a barbed sting. Clusters of shimmering red tentacles began to emerge, thrashing aggressively around the body. Nothing about the rapidly evolving monster seemed stable. It was immense, but Hart found it impossible to see clearly what it looked like, because it kept on changing before his eyes as it grew, parts of it disappearing in wisps of vermilion mist, only to reappear on its body somewhere else. All the same, he had no problem making out the horrendous set of gaping jaws that morphed into view, filling the sky with the unearthly screams of a hungry predator.

Feverish sweat broke out on his forehead, fear clawing at his guts, as the words Tejana had spoken to him in the dark corridors of the Gallifreyan battleship came back to haunt him: _The Cruciform is hate personified. The things it brought into being during the War were horrors that no-one should ever have to comprehend..._

"Oh, shit!" he swore frantically, turning back to the base of the converter and resuming his work. With a supreme effort of will, he forced his hands to move faster than ever, which wasn't easy while he was still attempting to keep an eye on the monster over his shoulder, feeling its presence like a cold weight on his back. It was still growing bigger, until it almost seemed to fill the sky. And yet a strange, shuddering sixth sense told Hart that there was no limit to it. This was merely the beginning. Given enough power, it could grow large enough to engulf entire galaxies. He couldn't run and there was nowhere to hide on the bald mountain top. He was completely exposed. The only thing he could do was to try to complete the task he had begun. For the first time, he was glad not to be wearing his bright red jacket. His dirty, tan-coloured T-shirt was his best chance to pass unnoticed, helping him blend into the shadows.

_You'd better have this right, Princess, _he thought grimly, tearing at the wires in front of him. _For all our sakes!_

But his luck couldn't hold forever. He knew the very second the thing became aware of him. He was working on the last component, sealing it with a thin laser beam from his failing wrist-strap, when the atmosphere around him changed, the entire world of Mnemosyne seeming to hold its breath. An inchoate scream of rage echoed across the sky and a glowing red tentacle snaked towards him, lengthening and extending at an incredible speed. He saw it coming out of the corner of his eye and instinctively dived sideways. The tentacle impacted with a craggy outcrop of rock nearby, which disintegrated into a spectacular shower of dust, graphically demonstrating what Hart's fate would be if he got in its way.

And that was when he realised his mistake. He had rolled too far away from the converter. If, as he guessed, the monster was some sort of pet belonging to the Chaos-Master, it couldn't afford to strike too close to the device, not without running the risk of destroying it utterly. One more push and the last component would be in place. Somehow he had to get back there. But now the tentacles were smashing into the ground all around him, driving him further and further away from the machine, and it was taking all his concentration and agility to dodge them. Up above, the constantly-morphing monster screamed again, the sound as deafening as the silence between the stars. With a cold kind of certainty, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Either one of the tentacles would get him, or he would be forced over the cliff to fall thousands of feet to a gory death.

_Captain John Hart, hero, _he thought bitterly. _Bugger that. This one's for you, Jack._

And with a roar, he put his head down and charged towards the converter.

* * *

><p>Down below, on the side of the mountain, they heard the Nightmare Child scream and saw the glowing red tentacles strike the peak. The impact shivered through the earth beneath their feet, while an explosion of vermilion sparks lit the purple night sky like a brilliant display of fireworks.<p>

The Chaos-Master's gaze snapped towards Tejana's face in sudden livid understanding. "You lying _bitch_!" it shouted, in tones of absolute fury. "Hart's still alive!"

Anticipating what it would do next, Tejana sprang up like a cat and threw her arms around its waist, just as it folded itself through time and space. The experience was like travelling by vortex manipulator, only about a million times worse. She felt as if she was being literally turned inside out, crushed and stretched and twisted, all at the same time. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. They re-materialised on the bare top of the mountain and the Chaos-Master hurled her contemptuously aside, leaving her retching and gasping on the ground.

It was like a scene directly out of hell. The air was full of choking dust, intermittently illuminated by the eerie explosions of red. The ground was trembling beneath her, like an earthquake waiting to happen. And overhead, the banshee scream of the Nightmare Child blasted across the night sky.

Fighting back the crippling nausea, Tejana struggled to her hands and knees and raised her head. The first thing she saw was the atmospheric converter. Despite the pandemonium all around, a surge of hope ran through her veins. She had been right after all. They could still stop this. But where was Hart?

At last, she saw him, crawling through the swirling dust, only a few feet from the base of the converter. It was painfully obvious that he was injured. One of his arms was dragging loosely, drops of blood scattering in his wake as he inched along on his belly, his eyes fixed on the gaping hatch that beckoned to him.

And behind him, silently and deadly, advanced the Chaos-Master, every inch of the black-dressed form intent on murder.


	35. Chapter 35

**_Author's Note: Thank you so much to those people who left some feedback, I officially love you all: EmmaMarie, Theta'sWorstNightmare, GuesssWho, SawManiac211, MountainLord-92, Way Worse Than Scottish, Lexy Summers, Geraldine, noideagirl (x 3), Dryu and Aietradaea. _  
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* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE<strong>

Hart hardly knew whether he was alive or dead any more. Trapped on this xessing mountaintop, there didn't appear to be a great deal of difference. All he knew was pain. One of the monster's tentacles had struck appallingly close to him as he ran towards the atmospheric converter, the ground heaving beneath his feet and throwing him to the ground. The red explosion had temporarily deafened him. At least, he hoped like hell it was temporary. A trickle of blood ran from his left ear and all the sounds around him had taken on a muffled, indistinct quality, as though he was swimming underwater. Even worse, a razor-sharp piece of shale had scythed through the air like a ninja throwing star, embedding itself in his left arm, just below the shoulder. He had no idea how bad the injury was, since his entire arm had gone numb, but his gut instinct told him it wasn't good.

Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and kept on crawling, dragging himself doggedly over the rocky ground. He might not be a hero in any sense of the word, but it didn't take too many brains to figure out that if the Universe ceased to exist, so would Captain John Hart, together with everything he had ever known or cared about. And whatever it was that waited for him on the other side, he was in no hurry to meet it. His entire life had narrowed down into one single purpose. Whatever else happened, he _had_ to reconnect that final component.

The dense, suffocating pall of dust invaded his eyes and nostrils, effectively cutting off the only senses he had remaining to him. His body was drenched in sweat and his eyes stung with dust-filled tears. He was vaguely aware of a screaming sound somewhere behind him, a haunting wail that might have been someone shouting his name, but he paid it no heed. The hatch cover swung enticingly open before him, just out of reach. Through the choking haze, he could dimly see the last component, protruding from the smooth line of the others, like a book waiting to be pushed back into a bookcase. Using his last reserves of strength, he stretched out his hand and thrust his fingers at it hard.

In that same instant, something struck his ribs with excruciating force. The sickening impact threw him aside like a discarded rag doll, leaving him helplessly staring up at the sky, wondering if there was a bone anywhere in his body not broken, and, if so, which one it was. A terrible black figure loomed over him and, with a sense of dull resignation, he recognised the Chaos-Master. The savage blow to his ribs had been a kick from one of the creature's black work boots.

"Time to say goodbye, Captain Hart!" the thing hissed, the dark pits of its eyes glittering madly.

Hart grinned back, his mouth full of the copper taste of his own blood. His fingers tingled with the victorious memory of the final component sliding smoothly into place.

"Goodbye!" he replied malevolently.

Behind the Chaos-Master, the atmospheric converter suddenly burst into life. Pure white lightning crackled up and down the spire, filling the air with the stink of ozone. Directly overhead, the sky began to teem with clouds, racing across the horizon like some sort of nature film featuring time-lapse photography. A cold breeze whispered its way across the bare mountain top, clawing through the heavy blanket of foetid, humid air, strengthening as it came. All at once, an enormous pulse of blazing electro-magnetic energy discharged into the purple night sky, a rocket of light soaring higher and higher and higher, before exploding into a magnificent shower of billions of silver sparks.

And as the tiny, luminous fragments lazily drifted back down to Mnemosyne, the very first one brushed softly against Hart's cheek in an icy caress and he saw that they were not sparks at all. They were delicate white crystals of snow, each one beautiful, each one perfect, each one unique, as numberless as the stars in the heavens.

_Winter's first kiss, _he thought dimly, watching the intricate crystals dancing in the breeze.

The Chaos-Master was staring up into the sky in disbelief. "What have you done?" it screamed, swatting angrily at the white flakes as they wafted down on to its head, almost as though they were annoying insects. "_What have you done?_"

"Killed you, you bastard!" Hart spat, his voice hoarse but still triumphant.

"Really? Is that what she told you?" The Chaos-Master turned contemptuously back to him and placed a heavy boot on his chest, a pool of darkness against the light dusting of white snow. "Do I look dead to you? Do I _feel_ dead?" The boot dug painfully into Hart's fragile ribcage. "Maybe you shouldn't have trusted my little wife so much, Captain Hart. Her pretty little head is full of fairytales. But I'm not just a nightmare any more, I'm much more than that, and fairytales can't harm me. Maybe you should consider that while I crush your heart beneath the heel of my boot."

More than anything, Hart wanted to fight back. He'd come much too far to die like this. But he had nothing left. He'd already given it all. All he could do was to lie there and bleed all over the fresh snow. The Chaos-Master laughed wildly and began to grind its foot down into his chest with murderous strength.

Suddenly, there was a whirlwind of movement through the eddying snow and a small figure hurtled unexpectedly through the air. Something collided with the Chaos-Master's head with a dull thunk. The creature gave a startled groan and slowly fell backwards, blood streaking down its face from a nasty gash on its temple. Hart gasped for air and blinked stupidly, trying to work out why he was still alive.

"How's _that_ for a fairytale?" Tejana's voice exclaimed. She was standing between Hart and the Chaos-Master, still hefting a large rock in her hand, trembling from head to toe. Beautiful frozen crystals sparkled in her long copper hair and her skin was mottled and blue with cold in her thin silken tunic. Hart didn't believe in fairytales either, but if he did, he could easily have imagined her as some sort of angry, avenging ice spirit. "Welcome to the real world, mister!"

"That's Master to you, not mister," the Chaos-Master growled, struggling to sit up. "And you're going to pay very, very dearly for that, my darling!"

Tejana darted back to Hart and tugged at him, trying to get him to rise. "Come _on_, Hart! Get up!"

"You've failed, Ana!" the Chaos-Master laughed. "Why not give up and throw yourself on my mercy? He's nothing but a loser and a has-been. Can't you see? Whatever clever little mission you sent him to complete, he's cocked it up! Some hero!"

The words cut through Hart like a whip. Ever since the Time Agency had folded, ever since his reason for existence had been pulled out from under him, he'd been trying to convince himself that he still mattered. He'd drifted through the Universe, going from this scam to that scam, determined to prove that he still had what it took. He'd spun his money-making schemes across the galaxies, got in hundreds of fights over things he couldn't even remember, slept with anyone and anything he could find, and partied harder than he ever had before, all in a futile effort to show that he could pull off the biggest con of all, to cheat Time itself.

But now, echoing behind the Chaos-Master's scornful taunts, all he could hear was Jack's mocking voice back on that rooftop in Cardiff: "_Here I am, in a new life and you're still churning out the same old tunes. And sorry, but they don't play as well, now you're looking a little older..._"

For the first time, he wondered if it had all been worth it. What did he have to show for his life, lying here in his own blood on the planet Mnemosyne? Nothing. No riches, no weapons, no possessions, not even his beloved Hussar's jacket. Even the name he used wasn't his own. And there was no-one to give a toss whether he lived or died.

The Chaos-Master was standing menacingly in front of them now, still grinning its death's-head grin, as large as life and twice as dangerous, the snow hushing harmlessly down to blanket its head and shoulders. Unaccustomed self-doubt suddenly churned through Hart's gut, made all the worse by the unfamiliarity of the sensation. Maybe the bastard was right, maybe this was his fault. Maybe he was getting old. His mind raced back over the adjustments he had made to the converter. _Had it been green to blue or blue to green...?_ Had he got Tejana's instructions wrong? In the midst of all the confusion, had he let the panic get to him? Had he cocked it up? _A loser and a has-been..._

But then he felt Tejana's small hand tightening on his shoulder. "He_ is _a hero, whatever you may say," she said softly.

Hart stared up at her in shock, hardly able to believe his ears. He and Tejana had been butting heads ever since they first met. She had never had a single good word to say for him, no matter what he did, especially after the deaths of Owen and Tosh. Here on Mnemosyne, he had repeatedly betrayed her and the man she loved, all in his own self-interest. And now, when she had needed him most, he had failed. But there was no anger or accusation in her eyes as she looked at him. Instead, she smiled down at him as if they were real friends instead of unwilling allies, her green gaze warm and approving, almost as if she was _proud_ of him.

"Oh, what is this, Ana? Let's make Hart feel better about himself before he dies?" the Chaos-Master cut in with a sneer. "There, there, dear, you did your best. You lost the fight for the Universe, but at least you tried your very hardest!"

Tejana returned her eyes to the Chaos-Master's face, but her reassuring grip on Hart's shoulder didn't falter. "What makes you think he lost?"

The icy breeze curled around them, stirring the Chaos-Master's white-blonde hair and fluttering the thin silk of Tejana's slave garment. It was growing stronger, sending flurries of snow cascading through the rays of purple moonlight that gleamed sporadically between the gathering clouds. Soon it would be a wind instead of just a breeze.

"Hmmmm, I don't know," the creature replied sarcastically, stretching its arms wide in complete, arrogant confidence. "Maybe because,_ here I am!"_

"Oh yes, here_ you _are," she agreed. "But, tell me...where is the Nightmare Child?"

The Chaos-Master's eyes shot up into the sky in sudden realisation. The only thing to be seen was a mass of grey, roiling cloud. No unearthly screams rent the air, no crimson gouts of translucent flame lit the night.

"No!" the Chaos-Master shouted. "NO! My child, my Nightmare Child! Where is it? _What have you done with it?_"

"It's gone and this time it's never coming back!" Tejana said. As she spoke, the ground across the mountain top seemed to come alive, spider-webbing all around them with thin sheets of crackling, popping ice. Somewhere far beneath their feet, deep inside the mountain, there was a dark, ominous rumbling noise. "Hart did exactly what he needed to do. Right now, the atmospheric converter is channelling huge amounts of endothermic energy down through the mountain to the _Cruciform_. And the psychic pollen is freezing back into dormancy."

"Then I'll unfreeze it!" the Chaos-Master yelled. "You stupid woman, I'm the greatest engineering genius Gallifrey ever produced. Do you really think you can stop me like this? I'll just readjust the converter!"

Tejana nodded, her expression strangely sad as her eyes drifted down to the creature's black boots. "Yes, you could do that. It would be a simple matter for you, I know that. But, the thing is...it's already too late."

The Chaos-Master's eyes followed hers and saw that the creeping ice had encircled its feet and was beginning to climb up over its boots. Immediately, it tried to move, only to find that it was stuck fast.

"The power of the _Cruciform_ is fading and so are you," Tejana said.

Cursing loudly in Gallifreyan, the Chaos-Master tried to fight it. But the ice was travelling swiftly now, moving up its black jeans past the knees, rendering it completely immobile.

"Ana, listen to me!" it cried desperately. "It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, it does," she replied inflexibly. "And yes, I do."

"He's dead, Ana. You can feel it, can't you? You know I'm telling you the truth. I'm all that's left of him! If you kill me, he'll be gone forever. Can you really live with that?"

Tejana's face tightened. Hart could see the pain lancing through her eyes. "This is what he wanted," she said flatly. "This was his plan all along. He trusted me to destroy you and now I've done it."

"Then kill the _Cruciform_, if you must," the Chaos-Master begged, even as the ice rose to its waist. "Destroy it utterly. But don't kill me."

"What are you talking about? You are the _Cruciform_!"

"Not any more. I was becoming separate from it. I was becoming _real_." The creature stretched out its arms towards her, as if it wanted to hold her. "_Look_ at me, Ana. You don't have to lose him completely. You don't have to be on your own. We can still be together."

Icicles began to form on the creature's fingertips, trails of white frost reaching along its arms and enveloping the familiar black hoodie. With a small exclamation, Tejana leapt to her feet, her face as pale as paper. She took a step forward, as if to help, but then stopped herself.

"What do you want from me?" she ground out, her voice layered with anguish.

"All you need to do is to give me one of your regenerations. Just one. Then the _Cruciform_ will die but I will live. The Nightmare Child and all the other horrors of the Time War will disappear, but the Master will live on, just as he always has," the creature pleaded. "We can go away somewhere together, Ana. We can be a family, you, me and our child. Isn't that what you want most of all? Isn't that worth one of your regenerations?"

"I..." she stammered. "I...can't..."

The ice crackled again, spreading further up the Chaos-Master's neck.

"We're running out of time! It's me, Koschei! You said you loved me! How can you just stand there and watch me die? This is our only chance! Isn't it better to have something left of him than nothing at all? Ana, _please!_"

Tears poured down Tejana's face. Slowly, she stepped forward until she stood directly in front of the Chaos-Master. Hart tried to shout a warning, but she didn't seem to hear him. Her hand came up and she lovingly stroked the rough, stubbled cheek, as if she was trying to memorise the feel of it.

"Koschei..." she said huskily.

"Yes!" the Chaos-Master encouraged. "Now, Ana. Do it! If you ever loved the Master, give me one of your regenerations. Let me live!"

But, instead, Tejana trailed her fingertips across the creature's lips and merely shook her head. "There, there, dear, you did your best," she said tenderly. "You lost the fight for the Universe, but at least you tried your very hardest."

"No!" the Chaos-Master shouted. "No, Ana, you can't!"

"Goodbye," she replied, stepping back again.

"_You_ killed him!" the creature screamed, its voice full of hate and malice. "You remember that! Always, every day, for the rest of your miserable life, you remember that! When you endlessly grieve for him, when you ache in the night for his touch, when you watch your child grow up without a father, remember that it was your choice for him to die, Tejanakaturadilena!"

Then the deadly fingers of frost finally spread over its face and all that was left was a glittering statue of ice, its arms still reaching out in mute supplication.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note:**

** Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Personal soundtrack for this chapter was "If I Could Be Where You Are" by Enya.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY SIX<strong>

The frozen figure was eerily beautiful, gleaming in the soft amaranthine moonlight, framed by the gently falling snow. Tejana couldn't take her eyes away from it. It was as though some great artist had set out to sculpt a block of ice into an exact representation of the Master, perfect in every detail.

_A masterpiece, _she thought, painfully aware of the irony of the words.

Her legs felt weak beneath her and all she wanted to do was to curl up on the ground and never move again. Because, deep in her hearts, she knew that the _Cruciform_ did not lie. It could twist the truth, contort it and make it seem other than what it was in order to deceive. But it could not lie. And the _Cruciform_ had told her that she had just destroyed the last remaining part of the man she loved with her own hands. The thought was a burning, unbearable screw of agony inside her.

The mountain rumbled and shook beneath her, the tremors significant enough by now to almost make her lose her balance. A tiny fissure appeared in the base of the ice statue, before trickling upwards and spreading outwards in a fine mesh of hairline cracks. She only just had time to turn her face protectively aside before what was left of the Chaos-Master shattered into a billion tiny chips of ice, blending into the deepening snow drifts and disappearing.

"Well, he didn't exactly go 'pouff', now did he?" a weary, sardonic voice said from nearby. "I'd like a refund, please."

Turning, Tejana saw Hart still lying unmoving where she had left him, at the base of the atmospheric converter. His face was as pale as paper and the pristine snow around him was stained red with his blood. But his blue eyes were as alert and mocking as ever.

She hurried across to him, even as the entire mountain shuddered again. The rising wind gusted around them, bitterly cold, bringing with it the deadly promise of incipient hypothermia. She had no way of determining how serious Hart's injuries were, but she suspected from the way he was lying that he had sustained some internal damage from the Chaos-Master's vicious attack. The deep slash on his arm was bleeding freely and she had nothing to bandage it with. Going with the lesser of two evils, she made up her mind and curled her fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt, tearing it from neck to hem and baring his chest to the falling snow.

"Whoa, tiger!" he protested weakly. "Not that I'm complaining about you ripping my clothes off, you understand, but couldn't you wait until we were somewhere warmer?"

"I have to stop this bleeding," she said, using the shreds of material to bandage his arm tightly. "Otherwise you're going to die right here."

He coughed hoarsely. "Hate to break it to you, Princess, but we're trapped on a virtually inaccessible mountain top with a blizzard closing in and neither of us are exactly dressed for the cold. Things aren't really looking all that rosy, if you know what I mean." He sucked in his breath in pain as she pulled the bandage tight, deep shivers beginning to wrack his body. "Not sure how I look, but you're already a very fetching shade of blue," he added, eyeing her with a pitiful approximation of his usual trademark leer. "Of course, I'd be a gentleman and offer you my jacket, if only you hadn't gone and tossed it over the cliff."

Tejana sighed audibly. She could already tell she was going to get very, very sick of hearing about that damn jacket. "Build a bridge, Hart," she replied sarcastically, securing the makeshift bandage as well as she could.

Hart glared at her in complete astonishment. "I just climbed up a sheer cliff for you, faced some kind of weird tentacled monster made out of red light, nearly got kicked to death by your boyfriend's evil twin, I'm currently freezing to death in a snowstorm, and you want me to start building a _bridge_? How the hell is that going to help?"

Despite her terrible, aching fear for the Master, Tejana couldn't help the small, hysterical bubble of laughter that exploded in the back of her throat at the incredulous tone of the Time Agent's voice.

"I don't mean _literally_, you idiot!" she told him, realising he had no idea what she was talking about. "It's a twenty first century Earth saying – it means you need to get over it!"

He thought it through for a puzzled instant and then gave her a wry smirk as he obviously got it. "Yeah, right. Thanks for that really useful piece of advice, Princess. You do know that hanging out with you has been the absolute worst day of my life, right? And since we're talking about _my_ life, that's really saying something."

"Pleased to hear it," she replied curtly. "I need your vortex manipulator."

"Of course you do. My sword, my jacket, the shirt off my back, and now my vortex manipulator," he said sourly. "What next? My kidneys? My liver?"

"I wouldn't have your liver on a bet, Hart," she shot back, grabbing his right wrist, which was still encircled by the wide leather strap. "The gods alone know why it's even still functioning after all you've put it through."

The mountain trembled violently again and the moan of the wind in her ears increased to a shrill scream. Tejana didn't bother pausing to remove the vortex manipulator from Hart's wrist. Instead, she stretched his arm firmly out behind them, holding the device as close as possible to the faintly-humming atmospheric converter, while rapidly pressing a complicated sequence of buttons at the same time.

"It's no use, you know," he said. "It's completely drained of power. Dead. Buggered. Kaput!"

"The converter is channelling pure energy. All I need to do is to siphon some of it into the wrist-strap."

"That won't work!" he argued. "It's not temporal energy. It's not compatible with the systems!"

"You're right, it won't get us far," she replied abstractedly, still concentrating on the small screen before her, which was now glowing gently. "But with a bit of tweaking, it should be enough for a short spatial hop off this mountain. The extreme cold streaming back down through the mountain is causing the tectonic plates in the lithosphere beneath us to contract and shift."

"Which means _what_?"

"It means that, if the shifts are severe enough, this entire mountain will collapse like a deck of cards," Tejana answered grimly. "And I'd much rather we weren't sitting on top of it when it happens, OK? Brace yourself!"

Before Hart could say any more, she held on to him tightly, keyed in the last co-ordinate and activated the short range teleport system.

* * *

><p>With a surge of disbelief, Hart felt the wrist-strap tighten on his arm and then the familiar twisting, rending sensation that always accompanied travel by the vortex manipulator, even though he knew it should theoretically be impossible. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised – from what he could tell, all three of the remaining Time Lords seemed to do the impossible on a regular basis.<p>

The trip lasted for just a few seconds. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer lying on the bare, wind-swept mountaintop. Unfortunately, however, his relief was short-lived, since their new location didn't actually appear to be all that much of an improvement.

"When you said a short spatial hop, Princess, I didn't think you meant _this _short!" he complained.

They had materialised right back where they had begun, beside the enormous, hulking obsidian shape of the _Cruciform_. Apart from a thick blanket of white snow, the clearing was exactly the same as when they had left it. The _Cruciform_ itself had transformed into something that looked remarkably like an evil fairytale castle made of ice, the black surface glimmering with a myriad of frozen crystals, each one reflecting the fitful purple radiance of the moon. Hart found himself shivering even harder as he looked at it. He didn't think he had ever seen anything that looked quite so cold.

"The real Master's still in there," Tejana said, releasing his arm and climbing to her feet. "I have to go back for him."

More rumbling echoed through the frosty air and the ground heaved and quaked. Tejana's tiny figure stumbled, but she managed to right herself, before moving away from Hart and heading determinedly back over the rough ground towards the Gallifreyan battle-cruiser.

"Are you insane? You heard what Evil Twin said, he's _dead_!" Hart yelled after her, his alarm much too intense to be tactful. "It's too late!"

"I told you, he doesn't _do_ dead!" she called back stubbornly. "And it doesn't matter either way. Dead or alive, I won't leave without him. Not now and not ever!"

Forcing his tortured muscles to respond to his mental commands, Hart struggled to his hands and knees. "Princess, if you're right, this bloody mountain is about to fall down any minute. And that's only if we're lucky and don't freeze to death first! We can't wait, we have to get out of here!"

But Tejana didn't stop or even slow down. Then, to Hart's horror, he felt the wrist-strap tighten again. "Oh, no! No, no, no, you don't!" he shouted, suddenly realising what she had done. She had already locked in a second set of co-ordinates and he was about to leave without her, whether he wanted to or not. "Princess, get _back_ here!"

She looked back over her shoulder. "No-one else is going to die for our past today, John, not even you!" She gave him a wry, tremulous smile. "Thank you for being my hero. And good luck finding Jack. Tell him...tell him I was thinking of him, OK?"

"Wait!" he bellowed. But already the scene was twisting and fading. The last thing he saw before he disappeared were the frozen tears glittering on her face.

* * *

><p>Carefully, keeping her eyes fixed on the <em>Cruciform<em>, Tejana picked her way over the uneven ground, knowing if she fell into one of the deeper snow drifts she would probably never surface again. Her body was so cold she couldn't even feel her limbs any more, which made her progress even more slow and awkward. She had a sudden wistful flashback to the freezing nights she had spent inside the Matrix, cuddled close against the Master's chest to keep warm, hearing his double heartbeat under her ear as they watched the snow falling in the firelight. Despite her attempts to shut it out, the memory was as sharp as a blade and twice as painful. She would do anything to feel his arms around her like that again, anything at all.

She had never thought for one second that she would miss John Hart's company, but she did. Without him at her back, she felt horribly alone. She almost wished she hadn't sent him away. At least when he was around she had something to take her mind off the terrible reality of what could be waiting for her inside the _Cruciform_. But he had been far too badly injured. Sending him back to the relative safety of Brandon's village had been the only thing she could think of to rescue him. Maybe someone there could help him...if the war with the Lich hadn't destroyed the village, of course. And if the humans didn't take it into their heads to kill him first and ask questions later, as payback for all the vile things he had done as leader of the Slavetakers. But looking after himself was what Hart excelled at. He'd had plenty of practice, after all. She'd given him the best chance she could – and if anyone could escape from this awful planet intact, it was him. She hoped he found Jack, she really did. She hoped things worked out for the two of them and they could both be happy.

With a heavy feeling deep inside, she realised she had already accepted that she would never see either of them again. Or the Doctor. Or any of her other friends. She knew the danger she was walking into and that she was unlikely to come back. But the bottom line was that, if the Master was dead, she didn't want to keep living either. She didn't want to grieve endlessly for him for the rest of her life, as the Chaos-Master had predicted. She didn't want to forever ache for his touch. She didn't want to watch their child grow up without his father, knowing that he had trusted her to save him and she had failed. If the _Cruciform_ was to be the Master's tomb, buried for eternity deep beneath the remains of Mount Boreas, then let it be hers as well.

The huge doors to the landing bay were wide open, almost as though they were waiting for her. But Tejana could see at a glance that the _Cruciform_ would never lie in wait for anyone again. The entire psychic presence of the ship had changed. The terrible, whispering malevolence had gone. Instead, as she entered, she could hear a ghostly sighing in the distance, a keening sound of utter sorrow. The _Cruciform_'s creator was dead. Its heart had been destroyed. And now the ship was dying by inches. The lights had all dimmed again and the corridors were filled with shadows. It was like travelling inside a glacier. The walls and floor were coated with solid ice, slippery and treacherous. Tejana had to slow down even further, to prevent herself from falling over. Over her head, glittering needles of ice hung from the ceiling, slowly dripping water to the floor with a steady, solemn plopping sound. She couldn't help thinking that it sounded horribly like a clock ticking.

_Tick tock, goes the clock, especially for the Master..._

Free of any psychic interference from the ship, she sent her mind frantically ahead, silently calling for him over and over again, begging him to answer her. But there was nothing. She felt nothing, except a hollow void where he had once been. It was as if he had never even existed on Mnemosyne. At last she came to the double doors leading into Kelios's throne room, the same doors she and Hart had tried so desperately to escape through, such a short time ago. The long hall screamed of terrible emptiness now, as if it had been abandoned and desolate for years. The big black throne was dusted in white frost, no longer a place for a living man, but a seat for the King of Winter.

Tejana had no eyes for the rest of the room. All she cared about was the enormous thought bubble that still hovered to the left of the throne. To her shock, she saw that it had also changed. Where once it had seemed alive, its outer skin silvery and glutinous and rippling, now it appeared to have turned to dull grey stone. It looked just like a huge boulder, ancient and impregnable. Haltingly, alert for any trick, she approached it. But nothing moved. Again, she heard the distant sighing and weeping. Fear and horror rose up to choke her. She could see no crack or seam in the smooth surface of the sphere, no evidence of any opening. Was the Master still trapped inside this lifeless lump of rock? She had no tools, no weapons. How the hell was she supposed to get him out?

Without much hope of changing anything, she reached out her hand. For a few, infinite seconds, she hesitated, her fingers hovering over the surface, afraid to touch it, remembering the torture she had gone through inside the malevolent sphere. But then she laid her palm firmly on the cold stone, her hearts contracting in pain as she imagined the Master lying helplessly on the other side.

_Open, damn you, _she thought angrily, her hand curling into a small, determined fist. _Let me in! Give him back to me!_

To her overwhelming surprise, the thought bubble gave a weak little hum in response, startling her. Unsure what was happening, she snatched back her hand and began to retreat to a safe distance. A heavy grinding noise came from inside the sphere, like stone being dragged across stone. Slowly, the top half of the ossified thought bubble began to retract. Tejana watched apprehensively, her thoughts hard at work. Kelios was dead. The Chaos-Master was dead. The dying _Cruciform_ was bereft of any will to direct it. Was that why it had latched on to her silent command and had obeyed her? Or had it merely recognised the Master's DNA inside her once again?

The reason hardly mattered. What mattered was that the sphere had opened. She was standing too far back to see what it contained. But there was no sound and no movement, no indication that there was anything alive inside. Taking her courage in both hands, she stepped forward. The inside of the thought bubble was no longer liquid or gelatinous. Like the outside, it had hardened into unforgiving stone. But graven into the centre of the stone was the distinct outline of a man, hollowed out, as though a body had once lain there and the stone had gradually formed around it. And inside this deep impression lay a black hoodie, some black jeans and a pair of black work boots.

The clothes were flat and empty, filled with nothing but ancient, sifting dust.

With one single cry of bitter anguish, Tejana's legs went out from under her and she fell heavily to her knees.

* * *

><p><em>Where are you this moment?<br>Only in my dreams.  
>You're missing, but you're always<br>A heartbeat from me._

_I'm lost now without you,  
>I don't know where you are.<br>I keep watching, I keep hoping,  
>But Time keeps us apart.<em>

_Is there a way I can find you?_  
><em>Is there a sign I should know?<em>  
><em>Is there a road I could follow?<em>  
><em>To bring you back home?<em>

_Winter lies before me,_  
><em>Now you're so far away.<em>  
><em>In the darkness of my dreaming,<em>  
><em>The light of you will stay.<em>

_If I could be close beside you,_  
><em>If I could be where you are...<em>  
><em>If I could reach out and touch you,<em>  
><em>And bring you back home...<em>

_Is there a way I can find you?  
>Is there a sign I should know?<br>Is there a road I could follow,  
>To bring you back home...<em>

_To me..._

-"If I Could Be Where You Are" - Enya.


	37. Chapter 37

**_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, particularly EDZEL2 for her big catch-up._**

**_Personal soundtrack for this one - "Salvation for a Proud Nation" by Immediate Music, which you can find on Youtube :) _****  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN<strong>

She couldn't even cry. She could feel the tears inside her, like sharp, glittering glass, but the pain was too immense, too great for her to be able to let them out, so even that simple relief was denied to her. Instead, she slowly leant her forehead against the rough stone of the thought bubble and just knelt there in the cold, numbly listening to the deep, distant rumbling of the shifting mountainside.

"I'm sorry, Koschei," she whispered, her voice aching with despair. "I'm so sorry. You trusted me, but I let you down. I tried, I really did, with all my hearts, you have to believe that. I just don't know what I could have done differently. If the Doctor was here, he would have thought of something spectacular at the last minute to save you, some mad, impossible, amazing scheme. But I'm not brilliant like the two of you. The only thing I was ever good at was manipulating the psychic link. And what use is that now Gallifrey's gone?"

She closed her eyes wearily. Everything seemed to be retreating to a distance. She couldn't even feel the icy cold any more. Instead, a warm, sleepy, disconnected feeling was spreading through her. A small voice in the back of her head warned her that she was beginning to succumb to hypothermia, just as Hart had predicted. But she didn't care. It didn't feel unpleasant. And with the Master dead, it didn't matter any more.

Her hand stroked lightly down the outside of the unyielding grey sphere, just as she had once caressed his warm, living skin, trying to remember how good it had felt. "You once told Jack you'd never leave me. You didn't think I knew, but I did. You told him even if you became one of the Neverwere, you'd never let me go, that you'd always whisper in my ear and walk through my dreams. Does that mean you're still here somewhere, Koschei? Can you still hear me?"

She listened, but there was no sound in the still room except her own feverish breathing and the steady dripping of the icicles. She gave a small, choked laugh at her own foolishness. "Funny, isn't it? How you always think you have forever? I truly thought that once we found each other after so long, we'd have the rest of our lives to spend together. There were so many things I wanted to say to you, but I thought I had all the time in the Universe to say them. A Time Lord should know better."

Keeping her eyes shut tight, she allowed her mind to drift back to the beautiful evanescent tapestry of her life she had seen in her recent dream, the way their life threads had intersected over and over again before finally coming together in the Matrix. There had been so many shapes and colours woven into that diaphanous embroidery, such a wealth of forgotten memories. She knew the Master was dead. She knew he could no longer hear her. But now she had started talking to him, she couldn't seem to stop.

"I'm so sorry now that I never told you how much it meant to me that you came to help me at my initiation ceremony, on the Eve of Cold Lamentation when I was eight years old," she continued softly, the painful, passionate words flowing from her hearts, as though he really was sitting right in front of her, quietly listening. "I never even knew who you were, but all I wanted for so long afterwards was to see you again, just once. I used to watch for your face in the crowds in the Capitol, hoping you would suddenly reappear, like magic. My secret friend. And when things got tough for me at the Academy, back when I was still little, I used to pretend you were there beside me, just like you were that day, telling me not to be afraid, that I wasn't alone. When I did that, everything always seemed just that tiny bit _better_, just that bit easier to cope with, and I always found I could get through it all, no matter what they threw at me." A small, reminiscent half-smile spread across her lips. "Imagine my shock then, when I found out later that my secret friend had been the _Master_ all along, Gallifrey's most infamous son and my father's arch enemy. I never could understand why you did it. I suppose now I never will."

Her fingers dug sharply into the stone of the sphere, but she couldn't seem to feel them, her entire being concentrating on all the things she wanted to say to him, before this last drowsy, dream-like moment slipped away. "And I'm sorry I never told you...that you were my first crush. I was always afraid you'd laugh. You see, back before I ran away from Gallifrey the first time, I...I found this painting of you and the Doctor together, hanging forgotten in the old Deca common room in the Endless Library. I took it and hid it under my bed, because it was the only picture I had of my father, and I used to look at it over and over again. And the more I looked, the more handsome I thought you were. I knew next to nothing about you back then - you were just a face in a painting. But I used to daydream about you all the time. So ridiculous, looking back on it now. Like a teenage Earth-girl, obsessing over a movie star in a magazine. And every year, we'd have the big Otherstide Ball after the Academy graduation ceremonies, and every year Damon would take me. But, when I was a girl, I always used to wish it was you instead. I used to imagine us dancing together, and everyone staring and talking about us. Oh gods, Koschei, it was such a long time ago and I was so young and naive and romantic. So ignorant and stupid. And it's such a silly, unimportant little memory, but maybe I would have got around to telling you about it, one day, if I ever got the courage. Maybe when we were old and I wasn't so embarrassed any more. And maybe you would have laughed and I wouldn't have minded."

The smile ran away from her face and she had to swallow hard against the heartache, because now they would never get old together.

"Most of all, though, _amin Mekhil_, I'm sorry for not telling you about our baby. I should have done it that night in the meadow, when I wore your marriage flowers in my hair. I should have told you how happy I felt. How amazing it was to have a tiny piece of you growing inside me. Our child, the son we made together, despite all the odds stacked against us. All the joy, all the incredible _wonder_...I should have shared it with you then. But I didn't, because I thought we had plenty of time. And now I'll never get the chance."

She was tired, so very tired. Her skin felt almost rosy, toasty warm. She had forgotten the deadly killing frost entirely. Sleep beckoned, a beguiling surcease for all her pain and grief. Here in this frozen tomb, sleep was nothing but death in disguise. Nevertheless, she curled up dreamily in a small ball on the ice-coated floor beside the thought bubble, as peacefully and contentedly as if she was lying on the big white bed in their TARDIS. "If you _can_ still hear me, Koschei..." she murmured, settling her head into the crook of her arm, never intending to wake. "I love you. And we'll be together again soon, I promise, all three of us."

Music sparkled through the air, resonant and melodious, like liquid gold. It was haunting and unearthly, beautiful beyond bearing, full of harmonies no mortal could ever understand, even a dying Time Lord. Tejana didn't move, knowing that it was the Song of the Universe, calling her home at last. She was not afraid, not even now the end was so close.

But then the ethereal melody grew louder and more insistent and it began to dawn on her that she was physically hearing it with her ears, not her subconscious. The sound was actually here, inside the room with her. A bewildered frown crossed her face and her eyes sprang open. There was nothing to be seen but the brooding shadows.

_Every creature in the Universe has its own story, each one as important as the next..._

That calm, serene voice, just as she had heard it in her dream...the voice of the Ruach...was she hearing things? Had she drifted into some sort of weird, cold-induced delirium? Or was this real?

All at once, sudden, inexplicable anger exploded through Tejana's veins and she sat up abruptly, all her peaceful lethargy dissipating into white, unbridled rage. Like all the children of Gallifrey, she had grown up hearing the Song of the Universe. From the cradle, she had been taught that it was the manifestation of existential harmony, the vibration the Universe made when all was in balance, a sign that all was well. But in that moment, she hated every single heavenly note. How could the Song just go _on_ like that, unbroken and perfect and eternal, when her own personal universe had just been so utterly destroyed?

"Oh no, you don't!" she yelled into the darkness, staring around her wildly. "Don't think you can turn up now, just because I'm dying. I don't care if you are a hallucination. Go away and leave me alone!"

There was no answer except the beautiful, delicate melody, swelling around her in an untamed ocean of sound.

Tejana leapt to her feet and turned in a slow, contemptuous circle. "And stop it with the music!" she cried bitterly. "The Song is supposed to be all about harmony and equilibrium and balance! So don't you dare...don't you DARE...play it to me now! You call this_ balance_? You call this _equilibrium_? He's _dead_! He did everything he could to stop the _Cruciform. _He saved this world and countless others, but he _still _died. And I'm going to die with him. After everything we've been through, how can that be fair? How can everything be _well_? The Chaos-Master was right, you're just a lie, just a stupid, useless fairytale, some sort of cruel cosmic _joke_!"

_Each story takes its own path, that is how it must be...I can create the windows of possibility needed to maintain the balance, but I cannot interfere with the choices that are made._

"Don't give me that!" Tejana snapped, still unsure she wasn't talking to herself in some way. Maybe this was what happened when you died of hypothermia – maybe you went mad and started pointlessly arguing with yourself. "Do you know how sick I am of hearing that excuse? I grew up on a planet of powerful beings that refused to interfere and where are they now? Dead and gone, that's where, destroyed by their own self-satisfied indolence and corruption!"

_The Time of Chaos has come, a time of change, of endings and of beginnings... _the gentle voice continued, unperturbed by her incandescent fury. _A story can have many beginnings and many endings, depending on the teller. All that can be imagined can be realised._

Tejana threw up her hands in sheer frustration. "Everyone on this damn planet keeps saying that! Even Mother Hulde told me I had to remember it, back at the village. Why does everyone have to keep speaking in riddles? What the hell does it _mean_?"

_Little by little, the cold creeps throughout the land and the psychic pollen dies. But even in its last extremity, the Cruciform seeks a master, a strong will with sufficient psychic ability to control and direct it. You bear his child inside your body. The thought bubble contains your memories. You are the only one left with whom the ship has a connection._

"Are you saying _I_ can control it? How am I supposed to do that, without the thought bubble? And why would I even want to? It's evil...an abomination!"

_Long ago, it was written: i__n the hands of the woman will rest the fate of the man..._

Tejana's breath caught in her throat at the familiar words, incredulous, blinding hope suddenly surging through her soul. "The prophecy! You mean it's not over? It can still be fulfilled? I can still save him? Tell me what to do!"

_In the hands of the woman will rest the fate of the man..._

The calm voice was receding now, ebbing into the distance, as though the speaker was gradually walking away.

"Oh, no, don't you dare disappear on me, not now!" Tejana screamed. "_Tell me what I need to do!_"

_Open your hands..._

The voice was very faint, almost inaudible. Desperately, Tejana swung back and forth, trying to work out from which direction it was coming from, but all to no avail. "Wait! Please, wait! I don't understand!"

_Open your hands...and your hearts...and call him home..._

The floor lurched and trembled beneath Tejana's feet, mirroring the increasingly violent shuddering of the mountain, and she felt the invisible presence vanish. The Song of the Universe faded into silence and she was alone again, standing like a ghost in the middle of the frozen, echoing hall, still wondering whether it had all been a fevered dream. _All that can be imagined can be realised. _Shakily, she looked down at her small hands, tightly clenched before her, rigid from the cold, almost as if they had been welded shut. _Open your hands..._

Bringing her fists together, she raised them to eye level. Ever so slowly, she forced her reluctant fingers to uncurl, until her hands formed a shallow cup. And there, in her palms, lay a perfect, tiny, gentian-blue flower with a golden centre. Tejana stared at it numbly, rending tears of grief finally burning in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. It was a forget-me-not, one of the myosotis flowers the Master had woven into her hair the night she had discovered she was pregnant with his baby. She had kept just one as a keepsake, hiding it inside her tunic against her hearts, not wanting him to see, not wanting him to know how much that night had meant to her - yet another thing she hadn't told him when she had the chance. She had no idea how it had come to be in her hands. Somehow, lost in her sorrow, she must have unconsciously drawn it out and held on to it as a way of bringing him closer to her. But, for all its personal significance, it was just a flower. There was nothing magic or mystical about it, no last-minute gift from the Spirit of the Universe that could save the Master. It had all just been a hopeless delusion.

She was just about to curl her fingers closed again when a tiny gleam of aurulent light winked at her from the golden centre of the flower. Astonished, she realised it had looked just like artron energy.

_Artron energy_...oh gods, could it be possible? But how...? The words of the Ruach burnt through her brain: _'Open your hands...and your hearts...and call him home...' _

And in that one awesome, transcendent moment, she finally understood. The thought bubble had been merely a focus for the power of the _Cruciform_. But for someone with unusually powerful psychic ability, anything could be a focus - anything at all - just as long as there was some sort of strong connection. Her psychic ability had always been her one outstanding talent. And her emotional connection with this particular flower could not be any stronger.

Hardly daring to hope, she raised the flower high in the air and threw back every single one of her mental barriers, opening herself wide to the power of the psychic pollen, once colossal enough to shatter entire worlds, but now thread-like and dying.

"Hear me, _Cruciform. _I am Tejanakaturadilena of the House of Lungbarrow and I am your Master now," she said aloud, concentrating on the forget-me-not with all her might, using it to focus her will and her desire. "I am your Master and you _will _obey me!"

And in the back of her consciousness, she felt an answer, something crawling in response to her command like a wounded dog, something weak and broken and diminished, but still alive, in spite of that. The last, failing remnants of the power of the _Cruciform_, lost and confused, desperately seeking a mind potent enough to give it being. It was not a clean or wholesome power – it was twisted and filthy and vile, full of hate and evil. Anyone with a white soul would have cowered away in shock and horror. But, as her time on Mnemosyne had taught her so comprehensively, Tejana's soul wasn't white. And, just for once, this wasn't about saving the Universe, as the Doctor had always done. This was about saving her own little corner of it.

Once more, the words Ianto had read out so passionately at Gwen's wedding rang in her ears, all the more resonant now she truly understood them: _"__Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails..."_

This was her chance to prove that her love was stronger than the Cruciform's hate.

"All that can be imagined can be realised!" she cried, feral joy flaring inside her as the golden glow at the centre of the myosotis flower grew stronger and stronger, lighting up the darkness like a flame and chasing the shadows away. _Call him home...open your hands and your hearts...and call him home... _"I know you're here somewhere, Koschei. I _know_ you can hear me. All my life, people have told me, over and over again, that I'm too stubborn, that I never know when to let go. Well, it was _you _who taught me never to give up, back on Gallifrey, when I was eight years old and I was afraid to face the Untempered Schism. And ever since then, across the centuries and throughout the galaxies, one way or another you've been coming back to me, over and over again. After all those years of being apart, we've finally found each other. We've made a child together. We're going to be a _family_. So don't you even _think_ about giving up on me now, Koschei Oakdown!"

Something as soft and light as a feather fell from above and brushed her shoulder. For a moment, she flinched, thinking with alarm it was starting to snow even inside the _Cruciform. _But then she saw that it was another forget-me-not. As she watched, more and more of the flowers fell, materialising gracefully out of thin air and floating to the ground, until the ice-cold floor of the black hall was covered in a beautiful, delicate carpet of blue blooms, their yellow centres shining like stars in the darkness, their bewitching, evocative scent filling the room. The scent of spring. The scent, not of endings, but of new beginnings.

Tears streamed down Tejana's face and this time they were not tears of sorrow. "I love you, _amin Mekhil_," she called in fierce determination, drawing on every last wisp of power she could summon forth from the _Cruciform_, ruthlessly draining it dry. "I will never love anybody else and I won't live without you. So I'm calling you home. _Please_...come home to me!"

All around her, the air vibrated with power, humming like an enormous tuning fork. She could feel the warp and weft of the space-time continuum reluctantly shifting, the very fabric of the Universe groaning as it altered to her command, changing reality from what was to what she wanted it to be. Life-giving artron energy poured from her cupped hands, swirling towards the thought bubble and engulfing it in a blaze of glory. All the arid, desiccated dust motes inside the Master's crumpled clothing began to glow and dance, rising and spinning like a mini tornado. Inside the golden vortex, Tejana could see a dark figure rising and reforming, from the feet upwards. Firstly, the black-jeaned legs, then a splash of scarlet at the waist from the red undershirt, then the torso and arms, clothed in the black hoodie, whole and undamaged again.

And at last, as the brilliant light began to ebb, she could see his face, the tousled white-blonde hair, the thin, stubbled cheeks. His eyes were closed and his hands were held out, palms upward; his expression almost euphoric as the leftover artron energy coruscated up and down his body, like snakes of golden fire.

"Koschei..." Tejana said, her voice hardly more than a stunned whisper, too afraid to move in case he vanished again, like an impossible dream.

Slowly, the brown eyes opened. For a few seconds, he looked down at himself, dazed and uncertain, as if he wasn't quite sure where he was. But then his head snapped back up and his gaze riveted on Tejana standing nearby, her hands still cupped loosely before her, her face wet with tears.

"Ana!" he exclaimed. Without another second of hesitation, he was leaping down off the raised platform of the thought bubble, surging towards her through the ankle-deep carpet of shimmering myosotis flowers.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Tejana ran forward and threw herself into his arms, feeling them close tightly around her as he lifted her against him, holding her as if he never meant to let her go.


	38. Chapter 38

**_Author's Note: Greetings, humans. Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. This is the last actual chapter, after this there is only the epilogue to come. I can't believe I'm nearly finished it - yayyyy!_****  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT<strong>

His mouth claimed hers, hot and urgent, as possessive and unyielding as ever, his fingers lacing almost painfully through her tangled hair. Everything around her seemed to disappear, the entire world fading into the distance, and she had no wish to go back, no wish for anything to distract her from the wonder of him. She could feel the stubble on his chin scraping sharply across her skin as he kissed her tears away, the brief, familiar sting making it clear that he was no dream. He was really here, with her. Yet again, the Master had returned from the darkness, yet again he had cheated death.

"I thought I'd failed you," she gasped, beating her small fists against his shoulders in a flood of turbulent emotion. "You were _dead_! I thought I'd never see you again!"

He grabbed her wrists and held them still. "You didn't fail me, Ana, just as I knew you wouldn't," he rasped. "I could feel you calling me back. Don't you get it yet? You _belong _to me. You're my home, the first home I've had in nearly nine hundred years, and I will never give that up! It doesn't matter where I go, it doesn't matter what gets in my way, I'll always come back for you."

Tejana laughed tearfully, her hearts nearly bursting with happiness and relief as she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had. It didn't seem all that long ago since she had been edgy and apprehensive about his obsessive desire to own her. Now, she couldn't think of anything she wanted to hear more, as long as it meant he would stay with her forever. "That's one promise you'd better always keep, _amin Mekhil_!"

His eyes darkened with pleasure at the sound of his name on her lips and he pulled her even closer. "I have no doubt I'll need to, with the astonishing amount of trouble you manage to get into!" he said dryly, resting his forehead against hers, his hand cradling her cheek. Then, with a forbidding scowl, he pulled away slightly. "Speaking of which, you feel like an ice-block." As he spoke, he was already tugging off his hoodie and slipping it over her head. "Here, put this on."

Tejana cuddled into the soft, over-large garment without argument, wrapping it around herself and pulling up the hood, blissfully breathing in the warm, arousing, _alive_ scent of his skin. She was so cold that the warmth trapped between the folds of material seemed almost to burn her flesh. All at once, her teeth began to chatter, as if her body had suddenly remembered it was chilled to the bone.

"Kelios was using an atmospheric converter to heat the psychic pollen at the heart of the _Cruciform_," she croaked. "John and I managed to reverse the device to freeze the pollen instead, just as you showed me in your memory vision. But now everything on the planet has iced over."

"_Hart_ helped you?" he said incredulously. "Where is he now?"

"I couldn't have done it without him. But he was badly injured...I used the vortex manipulator to send him back to the village, where he could be safe."

For the first time, the Master seemed to take in his surroundings, glancing around at the dripping icicles hanging from the ceiling and the incongruous swathes of myosotis decorating the floor. As if on cue, the room shook again, the floor beneath their feet threatening to tear itself apart. The Master braced himself against the tremors, steadying both of them. His eyes narrowed.

"Why does it feel like we're in the middle of an earthquake?"

With a nasty shock, Tejana realised that her attention had been so concentrated on what was happening inside the _Cruciform_, she had totally forgotten the danger that was looming outside. While the Master had been dead, it hadn't been a consideration, because she had been prepared to lie down and die here anyway. But now that they were back together, the need to escape had suddenly become incredibly pressing. And most likely impossible.

"Because we are!" she said, her green eyes wide with alarm. "I managed to use the last remnant of the _Cruciform's _power to bring you back, but the snap-freeze is causing the tectonic plates beneath the mountain to contract and shift. The whole thing is about to collapse around our ears."

True to form, the Master absorbed this information at a lightning-fast pace, his strong survival instinct immediately kicking in. He didn't hesitate. "Come on then!" he ordered in a harsh voice, seizing her hand and pulling her forcefully towards the door. "RUN!"

"It's no use!" she protested, stumbling and slipping along beside him. "We'll never get back down to the plains in time!"

He stopped again and Tejana could see the thoughts frantically racing behind his brown eyes. He glanced down at their joined hands, their fingers interlaced together. Her gaze followed his and she was startled to see the slim, golden snakes of residual artron energy coiling from his body to hers and back again, slithering like living things.

"You used the _Cruciform_ to bring me back..." he muttered. "Whatever can be imagined can be realised." His eyes met hers intently. "We began this together, Ana. Let's finish it together."

Before Tejana could ask what he was planning, his mind merged with hers. At first she instinctively resisted the unexpected invasion, just as she had when he tried to force her to remove his psychic blocks, back at the riverside. But after her first panicked struggle, she relaxed, sensing that he wasn't attempting to control or manipulate her this time. Instead, he seemed to be reaching right through her, seeking something else altogether. And, as soon as she allowed him through, she felt him find it – the last flickering flame of the _Cruciform's _power, nestled in the back of her head. It was all but dead, nothing left but the smallest, glowing ember, yet it recognised his touch and rose to meet him one last time.

The Master smiled dangerously, his eyes dark shards boring into hers, and Tejana felt something quiver deep inside her at the intense look on his face.

"The Doctor can click his fingers and open his TARDIS doors, yes?" he said. "Let's see if I can go one better."

Raising his free hand in the air, he snapped his fingers just once, sending artron energy skittering around them like a shower of golden sparks. And almost at once, Tejana heard the most welcome sound in the world, a wheezing, groaning noise she had been afraid she would never hear again. Directly opposite them, a tall, blue shape faded in and out, slowly materialising, the light on top flashing like a beacon.

"Our TARDIS!" she cried joyfully. "Oh stars, you did it, our TARDIS is back!"

The Master lowered his hand back to her waist and she could feel the triumph vibrating through his body, his almost child-like delight at besting the Doctor evident even in something as simple as this. "Remind me later to do something about that bloody Chameleon Circuit!" he commanded, pulling her close and lifting her into his arms.

As he carried her towards the waiting time machine, a further series of devastating tremors ripped through the room. At last, with some difficulty, they managed to reach the safety of the TARDIS doors. The Master half turned, still clutching Tejana close to his chest, and the two Time Lords took one last backward glance at the ship that had caused them both so much pain and horror. Chunks of ice were tearing free from the ceiling, smashing to the heaving, groaning floor in a sharp-tipped, lethal rain. The magnificent carpet of flowers was already scattering, the extravagant blooms blackening and withered from the frost, like a long ago spring that had come and gone and been swallowed by winter.

Then the Master closed the doors and, shortly thereafter, the blue box disappeared, abandoning the _Cruciform _to its ultimate fate.

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><p>Miles and miles away, down on the snow-covered plains, a man wrapped in a woollen blanket kept a lonely vigil, watching from the edge of the village as Mount Boreas slowly crumbled and collapsed in upon itself with an ear-splitting roar, sending enormous streams of tumbled rock pouring down on to the plains, eventually leaving nothing behind but a vast mushroom cloud of dust spreading like a cancer across the pink-tinged dawn sky.<p>

Captain John Hart had seen many buildings collapse in his lifetime. In fact, he had been responsible for many of them falling down in the first place, one way or another. But he had never witnessed an entire mountain just..._imploding_...before. Ordinarily, the breathtaking sight would have thrilled him, sending adrenaline racing through his veins. It was unique, unforgettable; the sheer, glorious _destruction _of it; the power and the majesty and the utter devastation of nature.

But the only thought in his head during the long hours as he watched the white-capped peaks of Mount Boreas fall was that no-one could have survived that cataclysm – nobody who was even close to the mountain, let alone stranded on the rocky slopes in an ancient, dying battleship. Even if the Master had been alive when Tejana reached him, he was dead now. They both were.

_You had to run back in there, didn't you, Princess? _Hart thought bitterly, trying to get his head around the fact that Tejana was gone. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute, the annoying little pocket rocket was there, ordering him about like the Princess he had named her, and the next minute she was dead, and there hadn't been a thing he could do to stop it. _I could have saved us both, but you wouldn't let me._

To his total disgust, he found that his stomach was twisted with anger, grief and guilt and his eyes were burning with unshed tears. Why should he care? He and Tejana had never been friends, quite the opposite in fact. They'd had a deal, that was all. They were nothing but business partners. Just because she'd had faith in him. Just because, for a few unexpected moments, she'd made him feel he was worth something. Just because she'd called him a hero. Well, he bloody well wasn't, and he never would be.

_Build a bridge, Hart, _he told himself grimly. _Get over it._

But somehow, repeating the words she had so recently spoken to him just made him feel even worse, remembering the laughter in her voice as she had explained the meaning of the slang phrase.

He was so immersed in his stricken thoughts, his usually keen senses failed him and he didn't hear the gravel crunch on the path behind him.

"You have to admit, as far as mountain collapses go, that was pretty spectacular!" an amused male voice said, making him nearly jump out of his skin. "D'you think the Doctor will hold that against me? It wasn't like I blew up a _whole _planet, was it? A mountain here or there hardly counts."

Silvery feminine laughter greeted this, the very same laughter Hart had just been hearing in his head. "You know, I'm not sure he'd agree with that, somehow. I just can't take you anywhere, can I?"

Slowly, Hart turned around, unable to believe the evidence of his ears. It was totally impossible, of course. But there they stood, both of them – not ghosts, not memories, but two living, breathing Time Lords. The Master was dressed in his black hoodie, the hood pulled up over his white-blonde hair, shadowing his face. His back was hunched against the cold wind and one hand was stuffed in his pocket, obviously in an attempt to keep warm. But his other arm was securely wrapped around a tiny figure wearing a warm, blue anorak about five sizes too big for her, a garment that made her look smaller and more delicate than ever. Hart couldn't help the stupid grin that spread across his face. She looked just like an eskimo child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes.

For a ridiculous moment, his relief at the sight of them was so great that he wanted to hug them both, an impulse he would never normally admit to in a thousand years. However, controlling himself with an effort, he managed to give them a more characteristic smirk instead.

"About time you two turned up," he said casually, his expression unconcerned, as though he had expected them all along. "I was getting tired of waiting."

"Sorry about that," the Master replied, not sounding sorry at all. "Tejana needed to get warm. We got...side-tracked."

The possessive glance the Time Lord slanted at his Lady, and the answering colour that rose in her cheeks, left Hart in no doubt what the nature of their distraction had been.

"Of course, if we'd known you'd be anxious..." Tejana began teasingly, her green eyes dancing.

"Oh, I wasn't anxious, Princess," Hart scoffed, pretending to stifle a bored yawn. But at the same time, he made sure he turned his eyes back towards the smoking gap on the horizon that had once been Mount Boreas, just in case she was able to read the lie on his face. "Not in the least. And as for the collapse of that mountain, you two can keep your sticky mitts off it. That one was down to me and it's going on my resume, not either of yours!"

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><p>"Are you sure you won't stay, Tejana?" Brandon entreated earnestly. "The Temple of the Pythia is gone, all the Lords have been deposed. Everything has changed on Mnemosyne. You and your companion come from beyond the stars. There's so much you could teach us. We could really use your help to rebuild our society."<p>

Tejana smiled. The prophecy of the Ruach had been right about that, at least. The Time of Chaos had brought many endings and many beginnings to the people of Mnemosyne. The bloodthirsty regime imposed by Kelios had been destroyed and, in its wake, the dictatorial power of the Lords had also disintegrated. Once the Lich had attacked, all the humans had banded together under Brandon's leadership to fight them, regardless of wealth or rank. As always, there was nothing like a common threat for breaking down social barriers. The battle with the near-invisible creatures had been a desperate and bloody one. After waiting for so long to seize their chance, the Lich had given no quarter, determined to slaughter each and every human being on the planet. Fortunately for the humans, an odd freak chance had ended up giving them the advantage. When the Chaos-Master had transformed the moon, flooding the plains with purple moonlight, the Lich had suddenly and unexpectedly become highly visible, glowing fluorescently as if bathed in ultra-violet radiation. After that, the outcome of the battle had been inevitable. The humans were well-organised, better armed and extremely determined. Once they were no longer invisible, the Lich hadn't stood a chance, particularly when it had started to snow. Those that hadn't been killed outright had apparently retreated back to their hidden underground lairs, choosing to live to fight another day.

That had been three days ago and, predictably enough, everything on Mnemosyne was still topsy-turvy. The former Keep Lords had all been imprisoned and were awaiting trial for their crimes against the people and all the slaves had been freed. Brandon was trying to restore some order, with the help and full support of the Lordsmen, but it was going to take a very long time to get back to any sort of normality.

"The worst part is learning to deal with this weather! None of us have ever seen snow or ice before. Until you came, we didn't even have words for them in our language. We had no idea what winter was," Brandon added ruefully, almost jumping up and down on the spot to keep warm. He was a large, shapeless figure, wrapped in so many layers of clothing that Tejana could hardly make out the outline of his body. "Now we know only too well. How do other worlds cope with the cold?"

"You'll get used to it," Tejana told him kindly. "The atmospheric converter was destroyed when Mount Boreas collapsed, so now there's nothing interfering with your weather. It will probably take quite a few years to settle back down, but after that, you should have regular seasons again – spring, summer, autumn and winter. I'm sorry about your moon though, I'm afraid you're stuck with it, there's nothing I can do." In truth, she wasn't really sorry – somehow it was comforting to know that the purple moon of Gallifrey still shone somewhere in the Universe. "And no, thank you for the offer, but we won't stay. We have places to go and people to see."

It was a familiar conversation. How many times before had she heard people entreating the Doctor to stay with them, only to have him refuse, intent on continuing his wandering lifestyle. Never stopping and never staying – that was the Time Lord way. Besides, she didn't have the hearts to tell Brandon, but Mnemosyne was the last place in the Universe she would ever choose to settle. Too many terrible things had happened here and she was more than eager to put the Planet of Memory far behind her.

She looked over towards the TARDIS, where the Master waited for her, chatting idly with Hart. She couldn't help thinking that the very idea of either of these two dangerous men settling down to help rebuild a society was so absurd as to be almost laughable. The ex-Time Agent was standing awkwardly, his arm in a sling, his handsome face already starting to turn black and blue as his bruises began to show. Lacking anything else to put on, he was wearing a hand-woven peasant jerkin over his T-shirt, much to his disgruntlement and to Tejana's secret delight. Somewhere along the line, she wasn't quite sure where or how, it had been decided that Hart was coming with them in the TARDIS when they left Mnemosyne. It was true, she _had _more or less promised to help him find Jack. She wasn't really looking forward to that, but now she had to follow through with her end of the deal, especially since their agreement had cost Hart so much more than he had ever bargained for. But what amazed her most of all was that the Master, although not overly happy with the situation, had hardly raised any protest at taking on board an extra companion. She had expected him to be adamant in his refusal. If she hadn't known any better, she would have suspected that he was actually starting to quite like Hart – which was ridiculous, because he didn't like anybody much, let alone an arrogant, smart-mouthed human.

"We owe all three of you so much," Brandon said gratefully, raising his voice so the other two men could hear. "Are you sure there is nothing we can give you to show our thanks?"

Tejana sighed inwardly, hoping he wasn't going to make some sort of speech. She really wasn't good at farewells and it was past time that this one was over. An imp of mischief suddenly seized her and she twirled away from him towards the TARDIS and stood between the Master and Hart, one hand on each of each of their shoulders. "No, thank you! I've got my spaceship. I've got my boys," she said, looking up at the two men cheekily. "What more could a girl ask for? Goodbye, Brandon. And good luck!"

With that, she blew the bewildered human a kiss and vanished happily inside the time machine.

"Oh, we are _so_ not her boys!" Hart grumbled.

The Master glanced at him, his face as unreadable as ever, but with something very like mocking amusement in his hard, brown eyes. "Yeah, we are," he said enigmatically, before following Tejana into the TARDIS.

Hart raised his eyebrows in surprise and then gave Brandon a resigned shrug. "Yeah, I guess we are," he said with a grin. "How about that? See ya round, soldier." And he too walked inside the tall, blue box.

"Hey," Brandon heard him say in an awed voice. "It really is bigger on the..."

Then the doors closed, there was a strange grinding, groaning noise, and a soft, eldritch breeze stirred Brandon's hair as the TARDIS disappeared into thin air right in front of him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Another Author's Note: And yes, for all you eagle-eyed Who fans, that last bit is a tongue-in-cheek reference to "Vampires in Venice".<strong>_


	39. Epilogue

**_Author's Note: Well, here we are, the very end. As always, the rest is another story and shall (perhaps) be told another time. After well over one year of writing and nearly 190,000 words, it's finally finished, and it's time for the Ship of Dreams to dock once again. I would like to sincerely thank everyone who has gone on this journey with me, especially those who have taken the time to review, I appreciate it more than I can say._****  
><strong>

_**For the very last time, a bit of a sexual content warning - you know the drill by now. You no like, you no read, OK?  
><strong>_

_**I truly hope everyone enjoys this last little bit. **_

* * *

><p><strong>EPILOGUE<strong>

It had been a long day and Tejana was tired. Determinedly, she wove her way through the endlessly milling crowds, hefting the heavy bags in her hands. Her feet were killing her. That was the big drawback of new shoes, she thought ruefully, looking down at her white leather ankle boots. They looked great, but they sure were hell to wear in. She needed a sit down in a comfy chair and a nice cup of coffee. But as soon as she had the thought, she found herself automatically rejecting it. Not coffee. Tea. Coffee didn't have the same appeal now there was no Ianto to make it for her – it just didn't taste the same.

At last, with great relief, she spotted what she was looking for. A plain, unornamented Doric column, situated in an unobtrusive alcove, screened by a couple of potted palms, their fronds swaying in the breeze from the air-conditioning. She had to smile, remembering the Master's loud exclamation of triumph when he finally managed to unlock the Chameleon Circuit and the blue police box exterior of their TARDIS had morphed into the new shape of the stone column. The new appearance of their ship was much more suited to the Master. She could recall him using it many times before in the past. Some things never changed.

It was also a very efficient camouflage, which of course was exactly the point. Dozens of shoppers wandered past the concealed time machine without a second glance. Surreptitiously, Tejana slipped between the palms and behind the column, quickly passing through the invisible dimensional threshold into the console room of their TARDIS. Upon arriving, she gave herself a little shake to orient herself and wrinkled her nose in discomfort. One thing she definitely missed about the police box configuration was the physical presence of exterior doors – it took a while to get used to the peculiar feeling of translating directly through the outer plasmic shell of the ship.

She looked around expectantly, but the only welcome she received was from the TARDIS herself, a beautiful, musical hum in the back of her mind. The console room was empty, with neither of her companions in evidence. She gave a resigned sigh and dumped her shopping bags on the floor, before smoothing her new dress down over her hips and patting at her elegantly coiled hair. After days and days of trekking around Mnemosyne in not much more than a torn scrap of silk, she'd been secretly hoping for a bit of male appreciation for her new, more sophisticated look. Typical men, never around when you wanted them! If she'd been trying to _sneak_ back in for some reason, though, you could bet your bottom dollar they'd both be standing at the console, arms folded, waiting for her with bells on.

Crossly, she snatched up one of the larger shopping bags at her feet and headed for the stairs. The first room she came to was the bedroom she shared with the Master, but she didn't bother to stop, because she could already sense he wasn't in there. Further down the corridor, she could hear raucous music blaring from an open door, the raunchy, throbbing beat sounding like a prelude to a migraine. Rolling her eyes, knowing what she was going to find, she walked down to the room that John Hart had appropriated as his own. Sure enough, the ex-Time Agent was lying flat on his back on a large, comfortable couch, a beer bottle resting on his stomach, his eyes glued to a wide screen television. Somehow he'd managed to tune the video transmission into some sort of bizarre alien porn, a bewildering tangle of arms and legs and multiple breasts, not to mention a disturbing number of tentacles and proboscises. Tejana quickly averted her eyes, quite sure that what she was seeing wasn't physically possible – and even if it was, she would much prefer not to know about it. Unfortunately, she found that looking down at the floor wasn't much better. The room was a filthy mess, with empty bottles and torn snack-food packets littered all around the couch.

Reluctant to enter, she cleared her throat loudly from the doorway to announce her presence. Hart didn't even bother to look up from the screen.

"There you are, Princess!" he said. "Just as well you're back! Blondie's been getting all strung out wondering where you were, prowling around everywhere and snarling like a tiger on crack."

Tejana sighed silently, able to imagine the Master's behaviour all too clearly. She'd decided to close down the psychic link while she was shopping, just to get some time to herself, which was probably why he was overreacting.

_See? _she thought to herself in frustration. _Treated like I'm five years old AND made of glass, into the bargain. _She had known he would get like this as soon as he found out she was pregnant and she hadn't been disappointed. Possessive and protective, barely allowing her out of his sight, even for something as benign as a shopping trip for some badly-needed new clothes. She'd had to virtually beg just to be allowed out on her own. What trouble he thought she could get into in a shopping mall she had no idea. It wasn't as if all the mannequins were suddenly going to turn into Autons and chase after her.

"Where is he now?" she asked.

"Don't know, don't care, just so long as he isn't in here," Hart shrugged, still absorbed in the erotic action on the screen. "When he gets edgy like that, he makes me nervous."

"Well, maybe you should be nervous!" she said tartly. "If he saw this pigsty, you're lucky he didn't just toss you into the nearest black hole. He can't stand mess."

"Hey, I'm an injured hero, you know," Hart protested, finally swivelling his attention around to her indignantly, obviously determined to make the most of his unprecedented hero status while he still could. "I saved the Universe and some gratitude would be..." He broke off abruptly, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping as he looked her up and down, the sleazy movie suddenly forgotten. "Whoa..._nice _dress!"

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It _was_ a nice dress. It had been such a long time since she had been clothes shopping – probably not since she had bought that ill-fated blue formal dress for the Lazarus reception, and that hadn't been much fun, with the Doctor tapping his foot impatiently outside the shop the whole time. So this time she had gone all out while she had the chance, buying as many trousers and tops and jackets as had appealed to her, enough to fill her entire empty wardrobe. Then she had seen the dress in a shop window. It had been made by some Grylldaen dressmakers out of a fabric that looked like sea foam and felt like liquid velvet. Once it had been altered to fit her small, slender figure, it clung to her like a second skin, shimmering as she moved, and she knew she had to have it. It was the kind of dress that could make anyone who wore it feel sexy, even a Time Lady whose latest regeneration was small and delicate-looking, instead of tall and willowy and curvaceous as she would have much preferred. She wasn't insecure about her new appearance – no, not at all – but it might be nice if everyone else would stop treating her like she was five years old just because she was vertically challenged.

But_ this _was the kind of dress that made people sit up and take notice, leading their thoughts not in the direction of what you looked like with it _on_, but what you might look like with it _off_. Wearing it on the way back through the shopping centre to the TARDIS, she been the direct cause of two near-accidents and had been lewdly whistled at over ten times, much to her delight (although admittedly the last whistle had been hard to confirm for sure, since it had apparently come from an Ood).

"It's nice to wear something that actually fits," she replied.

Hart slid his gaze slowly and explicitly down her slender figure. "Oh, it fits, Princess!" he said emphatically. "Believe me, it fits!"

If she had been striving to look more sexy, it appeared she had succeeded only too well, going by the salacious gleam in the ex-Time Agent's blue eyes. On second thoughts, perhaps it was just as well the Master wasn't here to see that, after all. But Hart was only the dress rehearsal. She was much more worried about the real thing.

"Do you think the Master will like it?" she asked, giving an anxious little twirl.

"He's male and, last I looked, he's got a pulse," Hart said in a dry tone. "Trust me, he'll like it. Although, I'm guessing he'll think it looks even better on the floor than it does on you."

Tejana laughed. One positive thing about having Hart around was that he was always good for a girl's ego, however annoying he was in every other way. Then she remembered the bag in her hand.

"I got you something," she said, tossing it to him.

He caught it easily and managed to tear his eyes away from her body long enough to give her face a curious glance. "For me? What is it?"

"Take a look."

Reaching inside, he rummaged around a little gingerly, as if he was expecting a bunch of rat-traps to suddenly snap closed on his fingers. Then he gave an astonished exclamation as he drew out the garment inside.

"No freakin' way! That's impossible! How did you...?"

He was holding a short, bright red Hussar's jacket with a black collar and cuffs, complete with elaborate, horizontal gold braid and polished buttons.

"Why did you think I specifically asked the Master to come here?" Tejana smiled, pleased at his stunned reaction. "This is the biggest shopping mall in all the galaxies. You can find anything here if you know where to look. And I'm a Time Lady - I know where to look." Her grin widened impishly. "I even asked them to remove the second button on the right-hand side, just so it's exactly the same as your old one. Hopefully _now_ you'll stop complaining. Why don't you try it on for size?"

Hart didn't need to be told twice. He sat up straight away, wincing slightly as he jarred his injured arm, and pulled the jacket on over his T-shirt. It fitted perfectly, almost indistinguishable from the one he had lost, except that maybe the colours were a little less faded.

"Oh yeah! And Captain John Hart is back in the game!" he crowed exultantly, unable to help preening himself. "I don't suppose you've got a samurai sword and a couple of blaster pistols hidden in that tight little dress somewhere, by any chance? If so, I don't mind hunting them out for you!"

She snorted. "Don't push your luck! I gave you my promise about the jacket and I've kept my word. The rest is up to you to sort out – and I'm sure, knowing you, that won't be a problem."

To her surprise, he didn't offer the sexually suggestive comeback she had expected. Instead, he slanted her an odd, intent look. "Do you always keep your promises, Princess?"

Tejana stared at him uncertainly. The tone in his voice as he asked the question was subdued, almost sombre, laced with soft disbelief, as if in his cut-throat world, he wasn't at all used to someone actually keeping the promises they made to him.

"Yeah, I do," she confirmed, suddenly a little sad for him. "Whenever I possibly can."

Averting his eyes from hers, as if unwilling to let her see too much, he quirked his thumb towards his new jacket. "Well..." he said gruffly. "Thanks for keeping this one."

"You're welcome," she nodded, glad now that she had made such an effort to restore his lost property. Obviously, the gesture had meant a great deal to him, more than she had ever expected. "But now, I'd better go and find the Master, before he punches a hole in the wall."

With that, she turned towards the door.

"Tejana?"

She stopped, startled by his use of her real name instead of his customary nickname for her. "Yes?"

"If the only way to get him back had been to toss me over that cliff inside my jacket, would you really have done it?"

Opening her mouth, she started to say that of course she would never have done it, was he nuts? But suddenly the words seemed to stick in her throat and she found herself hesitating.

The brief, silent pause seemed to answer his question, since he gave her his usual, insolent, mocking grin. But his blue eyes weren't laughing at all – they were full of an expression that looked very much like warning. "Something to think about, isn't it?"

Then he settled back down on to the couch, returning his attention to the television screen once more. Shaken, Tejana slipped out into the passageway and closed the door. _Something to think about, _he had said. Well, she didn't _want_ to think about it. She didn't want to think about what the implications of her hesitation were, of what lengths she might be capable of going to if pushed to the limit, to protect her relationship with the Master. A small shiver traced its way up her spine, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Whatever Hart's point had been, she wasn't going to let it bother her. The situation hadn't arisen, therefore there was no need to worry about what might have happened, end of story.

Shutting the unsettling exchange firmly out of her mind, she kept going down the corridor. She had already guessed where the Master would be, and the closer she got, the more she could feel his presence. Dark. Brooding. Angry. Oh stars, he was in one hell of a bad mood. His temper had been somewhat unpredictable anyway, since they left Mnemosyne. While she would never admit it to Hart, she understood exactly what he meant about the Master making him nervous. She hadn't had any reason to fear him since he had died on board the _Valiant_. But now, whenever she touched him, she could sense the rage and violence brewing deep inside him, barely restrained, just like a storm waiting to burst free, and it made her very uneasy. She supposed it wasn't all that surprising, given the tangled web of lies he had uncovered in his past – Kelios, the _Cruciform_, the Time War, the Doctor's involvement – all of it such a bitter pill for him to swallow.

But somehow, she thought it was more than that. Her hand slid down to rest protectively over her stomach, her hearts tightening painfully as she heard again Kelios's spiteful words: _Such a beautiful moment! Such an occasion for celebration, a brand new branch for the Oakdown family tree. But wait...there has been no official wedding celebration, has there? No sanction from the High Council for your union, no marriage agreement between the House of Lungbarrow and the House of Oakdown. What a shame, Koschei! It seems your son will be a bastard, just like me!_

Kelios himself might be dead, but something told her that his malice was still reaching out, even from beyond the grave, to poison her relationship with his half-brother. The Master had wanted their child so much – the confirmation that his son was growing inside her should have brought him nothing but happiness and joy. But for all his elation, Tejana could sense that Kelios's words were eating away at him like a corrosive acid. No matter how pointless such distinctions were now that Gallifrey was gone, he couldn't escape the prejudices that had been ingrained in him since childhood. Without a formal marriage ceremony between them, their child was not legitimate in terms of Gallifreyan law and therefore could not truly inherit the Oakdown name. And since both of them were descendants of the Great Houses of Gallifrey, no-one had the authority to bind them together except for the Lord President himself. Which was obviously impossible now that their home planet had been turned into dust and scattered to the four corners of the Universe. She'd tried to talk to the Master about it – tried to determine just how deeply Kelios's sting had gone - but he had repeatedly changed the subject, growing irritable with her if she persisted.

She blinked at the door in front of her, suddenly realising that she had been hovering outside in the passageway for several minutes, lost in her thoughts. For an instant, she was tempted to turn around and go back to their bedroom, putting off their encounter until he was in a better mood. She could really do without a fight right now. But a stirring within the psychic link soon convinced her not to bother. He already knew she was there. There was no way he would allow her to walk away without speaking to him. And besides, who could tell when, or even _if_, his mood would improve? Taking her courage in both hands, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The room beyond was a large, well-stocked library. It had already been there when they stole the TARDIS from inside the Matrix, so one could only assume that it had once belonged to Rassilon. The Master had since taken it as his own personal retreat, liberally adding to the collection of books as they travelled around from place to place. Tejana had been surprised to find out just how much he loved reading. She quite enjoyed it herself as a form of relaxation – for instance, she had adored reading the Harry Potter books, once she had managed to prise them away from her father. But the Master read anything and everything he could get his hands on, from ancient historical tomes, to complex technical manuals, to more modern literature collected from around the galaxies.

When she entered, he was slouched in his favourite chair, one ankle comfortably propped on the opposite knee, a small black volume in his hands. He looked up as she came in and, slowly and deliberately, closed the book and placed it face down on the small table beside him.

"I'm back," she said nervously, aware she was stating the obvious. She felt just like she used to as a child back on Gallifrey, when she had misbehaved and had to report to Lord Borusa's study to be reprimanded. Which was ridiculous, because she was a grown woman and had done nothing wrong at all. But the forbidding expression on his face told her that he didn't necessarily share that opinion.

"I can see that," he gritted out. "Where have you been? I was just about to come looking for you..._again_."

She supposed, after what had happened on Mnemosyne, she deserved that crack. But it didn't make her appreciate it any more. Despite her resolve to remain cool and calm, she felt her temper flare. She moved further into the room and closed the door with an emphatic bang. "You _know_ where I've been! Shopping! We're on a shopping _planet_, remember? And I'm sure the mall management are infinitely glad you _didn't_ come looking for me – their insurance probably wouldn't be enough to cover the damage!"

The Master glared at her. "You closed down the psychic link."

"Yes, because I needed some space. You're smothering me, Koschei! I know you're just trying to protect me, but I need some freedom to breathe occasionally!"

He scowled angrily and, with a touch of alarm, she wondered if perhaps she should have taken a more conciliatory tone. But then she felt his eyes drop, grazing down her slender figure, as he took in her revealing dress. His expression didn't change, but she saw something predatory stirring in his chocolate brown gaze.

"Come here, Ana," he said. It wasn't a request, it was an order.

Tejana was annoyed enough to toy with the idea of throwing his autocratic command back in his teeth. But it seemed a bit childish and would only prolong their argument instead of resolving it. So she gave in and walked towards him. He watched every step she took. The look in his eyes was completely different to the frank, lecherous, carnal appreciation she had seen in Hart's. It was much darker, brutally hungry and utterly possessive. It made her swallow hard, her throat suddenly going dry. Despite herself, she felt the familiar heat pooling low in her belly.

"Koschei..." she began.

But his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to him on the chair, curling her into his lap. His vice-like grip gave her no choice in the matter, a potent reminder of how much stronger he was than her.

"Hush, don't talk," he muttered, before taking her lips with his and drawing her tightly against him. As always, his mouth was hard and dominant, like the rest of him. His arms were like warm steel, trapping her against his chest. An aching shudder slid hotly through her. Without conscious thought, her lips parted under his, yielding to his arrogant demand, and he took what he wanted. The kiss was as much a punishment as it was a pleasure. He was hungry for her and, given his anger at her prolonged absence, he wasn't in any sort of mood to hold back.

"I like this dress," he whispered harshly in her ear, tracing the low, scooped neckline with his forefinger. She gasped, her skin tingling under his knowing touch. "I like it very much. But I don't like your hair done like this."

As he spoke, his hand moved up into her expensively coiled copper hair, busily pulling out the pins and tossing them aside, ruining over two hours of the hairdresser's expert work in an instant. Tejana didn't bother to protest as her long tresses tumbled silkily around her shoulders. She had known the elegant hair-do wouldn't last long. Before she had become involved with him, when she had been travelling with the Doctor, she had habitually restrained her hair, either in a tight plait or knotted at the back of her head. Now, she rarely bothered, because five minutes after doing it, he always pulled it out. He loved to see it flowing down her back, loved to touch it, loved to feel it on his skin.

His mouth moved back to hers, fiercer than ever, twining their tongues together. She could taste his desire, drugging and potent. An uncharacteristic panic swept through her, edged with quivering excitement, as he tugged her dress down, baring her shoulders and breasts and trapping her arms. She gave a small moan, unable to think or hear or breathe as his hands caressed her intimately. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he made the most of it. He had no intention of allowing her to escape, even if she had wanted to. Every single one of her senses was filled with him, leaving her unable to do anything but return his kiss, desperate to quench the aching need rising inside her.

"While you were gone, I watched some of Hart's videos to pass the time," he told her, his voice gravelled with anticipation as he eased her back against the arm of the chair. "Some of them were quite...inspirational."

The words barely penetrated the haze of arousal he had woven around her. If anything, she assumed he was making some sort of joke, since the idea of him and Hart sitting around watching television together was nothing short of surreal. But the sensual shock of what his mouth did next made her realise he wasn't joking at all.

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "Koschei, what are you doing?" she gasped, her body rigid with heated tension. "You...can't..."

The words trailed away and disappeared into a long, drawn-out scream of pure unadulterated pleasure as he capably demonstrated that he not only could, but that he would.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Tejana stood once more in the passageway, leaning against the closed library door with her eyes closed, trying to gather her scattered wits. Distractedly, she stroked her hands down the side of her dress. He hadn't damaged it too much – she hadn't had it on long enough for that – but it was quite badly crumpled. Her hair, on the other hand, was a complete write-off, cascading down her back in an unconfined mass of waves.<p>

Her body was completely sated. Their love-making had been as wild and driven and electric as ever, satisfying in ways she had never even experienced before. But somehow she was still uneasy. That edge had still been there, the feeling that something was not quite right between them, some sort of odd distance. Again, her thoughts went back to the words Kelios had spoken about their son. She couldn't let something so ridiculous drive a wedge between them. She had to do something about it. And there was only one possible solution, as much as she really didn't want to go there.

For their son to be legitimate, for their child to be the true-born Heir of Oakdown, she and the Master needed to be married. And for them to be married, they needed a Lord President of Gallifrey. And there was still one living Time Lord, just one, who had once been the Lord President.

Her soft lips, still bruised from the Master's kisses, firmed in a determined line and she marched purposefully back up the corridor, before she could change her mind. Hart hardly seemed to have moved in the time that she had been gone. He was still stretched out on the couch, just where she had left him. The programme on the television had changed slightly, showing a single couple now instead of a group orgy, although the basic script seemed to be much the same. Tejana turned her eyes sharply away, colour tingeing her cheeks as she was reminded just how similarly she had spent the last couple of hours.

Hart glanced up and burst out laughing at her dishevelled appearance. "I take it he liked the dress?" he jeered.

"Shut up!" she responded brusquely. "I need a favour."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What favour?"

"I need to borrow your vortex manipulator again."

The laughter died out of his eyes, to be replaced by extreme suspicion. "What for? I thought we were going to find Jack after you finished your little shopping spree?"

"We still are," she replied. "This is just...an unscheduled side trip. It shouldn't take long."

"For what reason, exactly?"

Tejana took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I need to see a man about a wedding."

* * *

><p>Yanked abruptly from the Time Vortex, Tejana stumbled and almost fell, doing her best not to vomit all over her trainers. If anyone had told her, she would never have believed that travel by vortex manipulator could possibly get any worse. But travel by vortex manipulator while you were<em> pregnant<em>...well, stars, that just took the cake!

She was very glad she had taken the time to get changed into a pair of jeans and a warm, leather jacket before undertaking her journey, since wherever she had ended up, it was freezing cold, with piercing arrows of sleet pelting almost horizontally through the air towards her. It also appeared to be night time, although it was a bit hard to tell for sure, given the myriad of blindingly bright lights that were strobing all around her.

"Tejana? Is that you?" a familiar voice said in astonishment.

Squinting against the light, still somewhat disoriented, she saw her father standing in front of her, his floppy hair damp from the rain. She smiled in relief, happy that she had so successfully managed to lock the vortex manipulator on to his co-ordinates. "Hello, Doctor."

Reaching out, he hugged her tightly in delighted welcome. "You've regenerated again. And you're a ginger – I have to say that makes me very jealous! Ten regenerations, me, and not once a ginger. What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak to you. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she replied, a frown creasing her brow as she noticed the portable microphone in his hand. "Oh stars, please tell me you're not going through another karaoke phase?"

"Not exactly," he said with a wry grin, pointing upwards. "Just give me a couple of minutes to deal with the invasion fleet and then I'm all yours."

"What invasion fleet?" Following the direction of his finger, she glanced upwards, only to see that the garishly strobing lights were coming from a plethora of spacecraft circling above, blazing across the sky. Not only that, they appeared to be in the middle of Stonehenge, surrounded by several platoons of Roman soldiers holding flaming torches. Tejana heaved a deep sigh. It seemed that, yet again, her father was in the middle of saving the Universe. Considering the forces arrayed against him, she hoped his plan was a good one, otherwise she might be here longer than she had thought. "Oh, _that_ invasion fleet. Well, OK then, carry on...don't let me hold you up."

"Thank you!" he said, giving her a wink, before pressing the button on the microphone. "Hello, Stonehenge!" His voice boomed cavernously through the night. "Who takes the Pandorica, takes the Universe..."

Tejana's eyebrows shot up at his words. The _Pandorica_? All those ships were here for the legendary Pandorica? Oh gods, what had he gone and got himself into this time?

"But bad news, everyone..." he continued, leaping up on to a flat stone and looking around jubilantly. "'Cause, _guess who_? HA!" In response, many of the spaceships swooped lower, whooshing past him as if seeking a closer look. The Doctor remained unfazed, glancing around at them without flinching. "Now listen, you lot! You're all whizzing about, it's really very distracting. Could you all just stay still for a minute? Because...I...AM...TALKING!"

To Tejana's unremitting surprise, every single one of the deadly ships stopped where it was, as if frozen in breathless expectation of what he would say next.

"The question of the hour is..." he continued. "Who's got the Pandorica? Answer? I do! Next question, who's coming to take it from me? Come on! Look at me, no plan, no back-up, no weapons worth a damn. Oh, and something else - I don't have anything... to... lose! So if you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceship, with all your silly little guns, and you've got any plans on taking the Pandorica tonight, just remember who's standing in your way. Remember every black day I ever stopped you. And then, AND THEN, do the smart thing. Let somebody else try first!"

He flung his arms wide, his head back - one man, standing all alone, taunting them, daring them...

For a moment, nothing happened. But then there was an enormous, deafening roar and all the Roman torches flickered wildly as countless warp drives engaged and every single one of the spaceships hovering directly overhead dispersed and vanished.

Tejana shook her head in utter disbelief at the jaw-dropping sight of an entire war-fleet running before one unarmed man. "Yep, that's my Dad!" she whispered wearily.

Grinning complacently, he dusted his jacket off and straightened his cuffs and bow tie, before tossing the communicator to a young Roman centurion standing nearby, who caught it in a reflex action. The young man was clearly gob-smacked, his face as awed as if he had seen a miracle.

_Don't you see? _Tejana wanted to shout. _This is what he does. This is what he ALWAYS does._

"That'll keep 'em squabbling for half an hour!" the Doctor announced, leaping down from the stone to land beside her. "Now, where were we?"

Gazing at the confident look on her father's face, confident enough to almost be called arrogant, despite the overwhelming odds ranged against him, Tejana's hand crept to cradle her still-flat stomach once more.

_His genes and the Master's combined, _she thought with a shiver. _Oh my son, what will you be?_

"I've got something to tell you," she said aloud. "Something important."

* * *

><p>Back on board the TARDIS, the Master settled back into his chair and reached for the book he had been reading. Turning the slim volume over, he stared down at the gold-lettered title he had been so careful to hide from Tejana.<p>

_The Plains of Trenzalore by Mme Kovarian._

With a wide grin, he reopened the book and began to read.

****THE END****

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Author's Note<span> _**

_**For the sequel to this fic, please read, "Falling Out Of The World".**_

_**SUMMARY: An impossible time, an impossible place, an impossible choice...**_


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